


Sittin' On The Fence

by mmerainbows



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Native American Character(s), Non-Consensual, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmerainbows/pseuds/mmerainbows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Someone to Ride the River With. HistoricalFiction!Klaine, References to Non-con from the original story.</p><p>Now that Kurt has escaped from Lima with Blaine, life should be sweet right? Yet Kurt finds himself more alone than ever, and having to deal with the aftermath of Karofsky's abuse. In seeking out help for Kurt, he and Blaine may find themselves further apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was only going to do one-shot follow-ups to this story, however I found myself compelled to keep writing, especially since on FF.net it had a huge positive response. I will be referencing certain historical events that happened regarding the Cheyenne peoples, but I'm not as confident in my historical knowledge about the Cheyenne as I am around other North American tribes, so if anyone notices anything out of sorts, I would really appreciate the feedback.
> 
> I am using a Cheyenne dictionary paired with an online translator to try and use the Cheyenne language as accurately as possible. I speak a few languages fluently but Cheyenne definitely isn't one of them. Ominitago/Minnie (Blaine's horse) is roughly translated as having a beautiful sound or voice, and Kikife/Kiki refers to a tornado. I am most familiar with Plains Cree culture since that's what I've been surrounded by most of my life, but have Lakota lineage (although you'd never guess it by looking at me - I'm as fair as Chris Colfer).

Karofsky loomed over Kurt, holding his shoulders down against the bed with his hands. Kurt could see the rage in his face, the anger directly completely at him. He was being shaken while the larger boy yelled at him, spitting as he spoke, with the saliva hitting Kurt all over his face.

"You good for nothing whore. You totally useless slut!"

Kurt tensed up and shut his eyes, trying to will David away as well as the tears forming in his eyes.

"You shot me! YOU. SHOT. ME. I was the only reason no one took to killing you! Now there's nothing to stop them... or me!"

Kurt shuddered, knowing he couldn't respond. Wait. It wasn't that didn't want to respond, it was that he physically couldn't. He was trying to take in air and let it out as a scream, but his vocal cords weren't working. He couldn't make a sound, and no one could come to help him if they couldn't hear him.

"Now you're going to pay for what you did to me..."

Kurt knew he was in for pain. He knew there was no escaping, yet he continued to try to scream, try to beg for mercy, try to get someone to hear him.

"KURT!"

Wait, Kurt thought, that wasn't Karofsky's voice.

"KURT! Wake up!"

Kurt's eyes bolted open and he found himself sitting upright with his hands fisted around his blanket, sweat dripping down his brow, and out of breath. It took him a moment to realize that it had been a dream; no, a nightmare. In that moment, he heard the voice that made him calm, and feel safe.

Blaine had his hands on Kurt's thighs and was looking directly at Kurt from a position across from him. The campfire they had set up for the night was still crackling behind Blaine with a faint leftover smell of beans and rice from their meal before.

"Kurt... you were screaming in your sleep again..."

Blaine looked exhausted as he said it, and leaned back to sit on the dirt floor behind him with a sigh. Too many nights Kurt had woken up like this, and always to find Blaine looking out over him with worry. He had thought he would be fine when they left Lima. He hadn't been, and Blaine was the one suffering for it. Despite what he said, Kurt knew that Blaine would stay up well past when he needed to sleep to keep an eye on Kurt. He was exhausted - they both were, and Kurt didn't know how to make the nightmares stop.

And it wasn't just nightmares either. He was prone to jumping at the smallest noises, his heart beating like it was going to explode out of his chest when it happened. They had discovered that being around too many people caused Kurt to get anxious and afraid. On one occasion Kurt had smelled something that had reminded him of David's scent, and it took Blaine hours to get him to stop crying. His dream of going to the big city to become a big name tailor had effectively been ruined by the memory of his tormentor, and now he and Blaine travelled the lands aimlessly.

Blaine said he didn't mind - that he was happy to just be with Kurt, but Kurt felt like he had become more of a burden and less of a lover than Blaine would let on. Blaine was, after all, the one who would go into town to gamble and do odd jobs in order to make money for them both. Occasionally Kurt would pick up some tailoring jobs to do, but most people tended to be suspicious of the quality of travelling tailors, and it wasn't like Kurt had too many marketable skills beyond that.

Kurt unlocked his fingers from the blanket and reached up with a hand to wipe the sweat from his face. "I'm sorry Blaine... I'm sorry. I can't make them stop."

Blaine tsked and took a handkerchief from his duster, reaching over to wipe the sweat from Kurt's brow before Kurt could finish moving his hand up to do the job. "S'alright."

Blaine always said it was alright. Blaine never complained about not getting any sleep, or working to feed two men and two horses, or having to be a nursemaid to Kurt when he was at his worst. Blaine spared Kurt his feelings.

"It's not alright. Stop saying it is." Kurt spat out, looking at Blaine with sudden outrage. "I'm a bloody mess in the head and it's not getting better and you're the one who has to take care of me like I'm a child."

Blaine just rolled his eyes, a gesture which made Kurt angrier. "Kurt, I don't care. I'd rather have you with me then be without you, crazy in the head or not."

Kurt knew Blaine was trying to make light of the situation, but the comment only fueled the fire in him. He threw off the blanket and stood up, storming over to his black stallion, Kikife before Blaine could protest.

"I'm going for a ride."

Blaine stood up and frowned, his whole face darkening as he looked towards Kurt, "It's the middle of the night. You're not familiar with this territory - or Kikife for that matter. Don't be ridiculous."

The anger that was pumping through Kurt's veins was suddenly replaced with the knowledge that Blaine was, once again, right. Going off into the night would only show how stupid he was being, and likely get him caught up in trouble. How many bandit groups had they encountered on their travels already? And Kurt didn't understand the sign language that Blaine had used to negotiate passage with native groups. Hell, if Kurt suddenly was triggered by something, he could wind up a sobbing mess that would be perfect wolf food out here.

In defeat, Kurt slumped to the ground, back against the tree being used as a tie for Ominitago and Kikife. He dropped his face into the palms of his hands, and despite having been trying to keep it together, started crying again.

Almost as soon as he had begun, Blaine was crouched at his side and gently rubbing Kurt's shoulder, "It's alright Naehame..."

Blaine had called him that before, many times in fact. When Kurt had asked him about it, Blaine had told him that it was a Cheyenne word that reflected his love for Kurt. The musical way it came out of Blaine's mouth made Kurt's heart swell up, and for the third time in the past few minutes, his mood shifted again. He leaned against Blaine, who expertly wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him close as Kurt ended his crying.

"I need to do something Blaine... I need to do something so I can fix myself. I can't keep living like this - being so dependant on you for everything..."

"I don't mind." was Blaine's immediate response.

"You don't mind, but I do. I need to feel useful - like I'm doing something good in the world. I get bored sitting around when you work. It was fun at first, but now I only have my own mind for company when you're gone - and it's just not good company these days." Kurt turned to look to Blaine, seeing in his face that he understood. Blaine was silent for a minute, and his eyes darted around as he thought, before they came back up to meet with Kurt's again.

"We could go west... where I know some of my mother's people are."

Kurt arched an eyebrow, unsure of the meaning behind that suggestion. Blaine hadn't talked much about his mother's people, much less his own parents. Kurt knew that Blaine was part Cheyenne on his mother's side, and Irish on his father's side. His dad was in Philadelphia working on a political career and hadn't wanted much to do with Blaine as he had gotten older - not having a lot of use for a half-breed gay son. Blaine never spoke directly about his mother, it was always 'his mother's people', and when Kurt had asked what part she had played in his growing up, he had gotten a pained look from Blaine, and silence.

But Blaine had lived with his mother's people at some point, because he seemingly understood the language, knew the stories and traditions, and had apprenticed under a medicine woman. He didn't belong with them, or so he told Kurt, so he didn't stay with them.

Blaine himself didn't look very native, at least not what Kurt had seen of Native Americans since he had left Lima, nor did he look white. His curls had to be from his father's side of the family since all the Irish men and women Kurt had met had them, but the dark hair and sun-kissed skin had to be from his mother. He seemed to be passable as a darker skinned white boy in towns, at least until he started talking. Blaine didn't speak unnecessarily long, and had a habit of tossing in the odd Cheyenne word, though Kurt wasn't sure if that was purposeful or not.

For all of Blaine's tenderness and care, there was still too much Kurt didn't know about, and Kurt had wondered on more than one occasion if he would still be here, with Blaine, if Blaine hadn't been the first one, the first gay man, that Kurt had met. Technically, David was gay, but David was neither out nor an option for Kurt given the abuse Kurt had suffered at his hands. Then he had discovered that Sebastian too was gay, also secretly, and apparently had a relationship with David - one which Kurt still had a hard time wrapping his head around. But Blaine had come to Lima, and Blaine had wanted him, and loved him.

So Kurt was here now, with Blaine, instead of in Lima. But Kurt had nothing to do and no future for himself he could see, aside from one at Blaine's side. He wondered if he had made the right choice, or if his desperation to get out of Lima had caused him to make a hasty decision.

"... there are many ways to heal oneself beyond the ways the white doctors know. Perhaps my mother's people could help." Blaine had been talking and Kurt had not been paying full attention, though he caught onto that last bit and looked towards Blaine skeptically. He could barely articulate what was wrong with himself to Blaine, let alone someone he didn't share a language or culture with.

Blaine recognized Kurt's hesitation and continued speaking, "It is better than continuing to do nothing."

Kurt sighed and reluctantly nodded to Blaine. That was something he certainly couldn't argue. "Fine. How far?"

Blaine looked up at the stars, and mapped them in his head. It was a skill that Blaine had been teaching Kurt, though Kurt was still having troubles seeing the differences in some stars enough to be able to navigate with them. After a minute, Blaine looked back to Kurt with a gentle smile, "About three days only if we keep a steady pace."

Kurt nodded again, thinking of how his rear would eventually form a callus from sitting on a saddle so much. A few times they had gone at what Blaine had called "a steady pace" and Kurt's thighs had been numb afterwards. But to his credit, he hadn't whined or complained, since really, Kurt didn't have much to complain about compared to the situation he had escaped from. He was lucky to be alive, lucky that Blaine's bullet had cut the rope that held his noose before he was completely devoid of air. He didn't know why he didn't savour his life more given that he really was getting a second chance at it.

"Is your mother among your mother's people?"

Blaine sucked in a sharp breath, and Kurt could see in his face that his words had wounded Blaine's heart. He immediately regretted asking the question. Blaine's lips pursed and he looked away, giving Kurt a simple response. "No."

Kurt didn't inquire further and instead pushed Blaine away with a hand to the chest so he could stand up and walk back over to his bedroll by the firepit. He could hear the steps behind him indicating that Blaine was following.

Without speaking again, Kurt laid down and pulled his blanket back over him while Blaine went to sit on his bedroll, still unpacked, beside Kurt.

"Please sleep with me tonight Blaine..."

Blaine looked down to Kurt, who was looking up at him with pleading eyes. A soft smile was his first response and then Blaine got off his bedroll and undid the twine holding it together, letting it roll apart. He carefully placed it beside Kurt's and then crawled under his own blanket. Kurt immediately shifted over and snuggled against Blaine, who, as always, wrapped an arm around him.

"May the Wise one Above and the God below the ground give you peace tonight." Blaine spoke and gently kissed the top of Kurt's head which Kurt had rested on Blaine's chest.

Kurt let out a little murmur, but by the time it came out of his lips, it was incomprehensible, as Kurt had quickly drifted into sleep.

* * *

Three days had passed, and then four. Now it was their fifth day on the trail of a tribe that Blaine was hopeful about seeing. He never said as much to Kurt, but the intensity with which Blaine tracked the tribe, and the way he looked out into the distance trying to see the people he was trying to get to spoke loudly enough.

Kurt on the other hand was ready to complain. Kikife was reliable and gentle, but had no sense about his size or how every time he trotted he bounced Kurt up and down. Blaine had not been allowed to go near Kurt's ass in the past two days. It hurt. As did his thighs and abdomen. Every day he nearly fell off Kikife and went straight into his bedroll, which at this point Blaine was getting ready for him. His body was sore in ways he had never imagined. Blaine had been giving him tea laced with herbs to take the edge off the pain, but Kurt wondered how long that would help for. He wanted to get to the tribe now, if only to stop having to ride so hard every day.

Blaine continued to move with ease, and Kurt wondered how much he had slowed down Blaine's pace by joining him. It was clear that these long, arduous rides didn't phase Blaine at all, or, if they did, he didn't let anyone see it. In fact, he had made the extra effort to go fishing and give Kurt something different to eat just last night since Blaine usually preferred rabbit or duck.

Now Blaine was humming, riding Ominitago just ahead of him by a few paces. Kurt didn't know the tune, but it was upbeat, which from Blaine was unusual in and of itself. Blaine usually went for the mournful, slow songs, and usually played the harmonica instead of using his own voice. Not that Kurt would complain. Blaine's voice was always music to him.

"Whoa!" Blaine pulled on Ominitago's reigns and squinted ahead. Kurt pulled Kikife to a stop as well, and joined Blaine in his squinting, trying to see what Blaine was seeing.

He could barely make out smoke coming up from a singular source in the horizon. He couldn't see the fire, but could make out short, conical trees around that fire - a type of tree he couldn't place. Kurt looked sidelong to Blaine and saw that he had an actual full faced grin covering his face. Just to see the hugeness of the smile made Kurt smile in turn. Blaine smiled for Kurt easily, but rarely ever this large and with such joy expressed in all his features.

Blaine turned his head and faced the grin towards Kurt. "I think that's them!" He looked back to the horizon and nipped Ominitago in the side with the heel of his boot, causing her to bolt ahead and Blaine along with her. Kurt gave a similar heel-butt to Kikife, along with the customary "Giddy-up!". The brute of a horse running along after Ominitago as if it were a race, much to the chagrin of Kurt's rear.

As they came closer to the campsite, Kurt noted that what he had thought were tree's, were instead tall tents, covered in what looked like painted animal hides. What he thought had been one fire, had been several, one from each of the tents. He made out the forms of people, olive skinned with long dark hair. Many of them wore braids, and almost all wore animal hide clothing, some with intricately beaded designs.

The olive skin strangers watched cautiously as the two of them approached, and one of the older looking men in the group approached them as they halted their horses just on the edge of the camp. Blaine slid off his horse, and Kurt, slowly, followed his lead, grimacing as he felt the pain up and down his legs from having to stand on sore limbs.

Blaine and the man before him exchanged words in a language that Kurt could only presume was Cheyanne. It sounded absolutely musical, and flowed in a quick rhythm that matched the beat of his heart. He wondered how the Cheyenne were able to breath when they talked, since they didn't seem to stop for air.

A few of the women had walked closer to Kurt and seemed to be having a conversation about him, pointing to him and also talking in that quick, lyrical language. Kurt shifted uncomfortably in spot, wishing he had asked Blaine to teach him the language. He felt so out of place here, and lacked any ability to contribute to what Blaine was doing.

At this point, the older native man had called over an old and worn looking woman. The woman was smiling at Blaine, and he was returning the smile. Again the conversation started up and Kurt allowed his eyes to drift and take in the little village here. Most of the people had come to encircle them, watching curiously, or holding conversations of their own while pointing at Kurt or Blaine. The children were looking up at their parents and asking what Kurt assumed to be questions about them, because the parents spoke in that patient and deliberate way that parents do when they're explaining something to their children.

Finally, Blaine looked back and smiled at Kurt, turning his tongue back to English, "These are some of my mother's people. They will let us camp with them and the medicine woman will see if she can help you."

Kurt nodded in reply, noting that the woman who had spoken to Blaine must be the medicine woman. He followed Blaine as he brought his horse over to where a makeshift pen had been set up with about two dozen horses corralled inside. They took off the saddles and blankets and then let their horses join the horses of the Cheyenne tribe. Ominitago whinnied to the crowd, letting her presence be known, while Kikife skulked in behind her, looking none too pleased about this change in scenery.

As they went to set up a campsite of their own, Kurt noticed that they had been followed by some of the children, who watched them from a distance with curious eyes. As if he could read his mind, Blaine spoke.

"Most of the children have never seen a white man before."

Kurt made a small o with his mouth and nodded, then decided to give the children a smile of his own, which caused them to erupt into giggles. Before he knew it, they had crept up further and he could hear them whispering among themselves.

"What are they saying Blaine?"

Blaine smirked a little as he worked on getting the fire started. He looked up from where he was kneeling to look at Kurt and then look back at the children.

"They wonder if your skin has never been touched by Grandfather Sun, or why your eyes are the colour of the river and the sky. They wonder if your skin is painted on and if you take off your clothes, they will find someone like them underneath."

Kurt furrowed up his brow - a blend of confusion and disbelief. He looked back at the children and then slowly pulled off his jacket, and then his shirt, leaving on his undershirt but exposing his equally pale arms for show to them. The little ones gasped and immediately began conversing rapidly among themselves again.

Blaine chuckled from where he was kneeling and where he had just gotten a spark going in the firepit. Kurt immediately turned to him, realizing that he had gotten in on some sort of joke that Kurt could interpret. "What?"

"They think you must bathe in boiled white fungus to get that colour."

Kurt blanched and looked between Blaine and the children incredulously. "Well... can you tell them I'm just a boring white man who was simply born like this?"

Blaine looked up to the children and rattled off what Kurt assumed to be the explanation. The children seemed to process the information and then one of them, an older girl, replied to Blaine, who quickly replied back.

"Translate?" Kurt prompted, leaning down ever so slightly to pull off his riding chaps and hopefully do so in a way that wouldn't cause him too much pain.

"They wanted to know if you were one of the good white men or bad ones. I told them good - unless you have been riding for several days straight - then you are just a grouchy white man."

Kurt snorted at that, something between a short laugh and a huff of disapproval. He managed to get his chaps off and folded them to the side before he came to the final test of his pain - sitting down. Blaine was watching him at this point and again spoke in rapid Cheyenne to the children who all quickly flocked around Kurt and helped ease him to the ground. Kurt's eyes were wide in shock at this gesture, but realized that Blaine must have asked them to help. He smiled and nodded his thanks to them, but then had the sense to ask Blaine - "How do you say thank you?"

"Hahoo."

"Hah-hoo." Kurt enunciated slowly, copying Blaine to the best of his abilities. The children laughed and once they had each taken turns looking at Kurt's eyes with a bit of awe, they ran off together, back to the main village site.

"Well that was awkward..." Kurt mused, shimmying his trousers down and leaving him in his boxers.

Blaine was now setting up the bed rolls, side by side. Usually Blaine would have begun cooking them supper, but Kurt had the feeling they wouldn't need to worry about that here.

"They are just children trying to learn about the world around them."

Kurt hummed his acknowledgement and then saw that the medicine woman was approaching, a plate in her hands. Blaine rose to greet her and they chatted away for a moment before Blaine brought the plate to Kurt and the medicine woman walked back to the village. On it was a medley of different plants, some of which Kurt didn't know, what looked to be a type of bread, and stewed hunks of meat.

Kurt was salivating and greedily began scooping up the meat on the bread, moaning his appreciation of the flavour to Blaine, who laughed.

"Where's yours?" Kurt asked then, looking at the plate and wondering if this had been meant for them to share.

"I will go get mine later. The medicine woman put herbs in your food to help with the pain and help you sleep."

Kurt dropped the bread on the plate and coughed, looking at Blaine in panic, "What? Blaine! I don't even know her! What if she tries to poison me?!"

Blaine shook his head at Kurt and leaned over, picking the bread back up and scooping some of the meat onto it before bringing it back before Kurt's mouth, "She won't. It is her sacred duty to help."

Kurt looked at the food and then to Blaine's eyes, the amber in them pleading with Kurt to trust in him. So Kurt took a bite from the offered food and then continued to eat, albeit a little less enthusiastically now. By the time he had finished, he was feeling incredibly drowsy and crawled himself into his blankets without much more than a goodnight grunt to Blaine.

"Sleep well Naehame."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt could feel the sun beating down on him when he awoke.  The sun was too bright to open his eyes completely without being blinded by it, so he slitted them apart slowly to adjust.  He still felt groggy, like he could keep sleeping for a long while yet, but he had gotten through the night without terror overtaking him for once, and didn’t want to jinx himself.  

  


 

  


He could tell it was midday already by where the sun hung in the sky, and Blaine wasn’t beside him anymore.  With a grunt he sat up, wincing once his body reminded him how sore and blistered he was from the week of trekking they had just gone through on the horses.  

  


 

  


Sitting across from Kurt at the now deadened firepit was the wizened old woman that had been talking to Blaine the night before, the same one who had brought his meal.  Kurt quickly looked from side to side to see if Blaine was nearby, but quickly decimated that he was alone with this woman.  He made a slightly crooked smile and a little wave with one hand to her, while she looked over at him as if to assess him, up and down, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

  


 

  


Finally, in choppy English, she spoke.  “You.  You... vehoe... whiteman.  Friend of Avonaco.  I...” she pointed at herself, “Náhkôhma'heóná'e.... Medicine Bear Mother.”

  


 

  


Kurt swallowed and nodded, trying to repeat the name, “Na...Nako....uh....”

  


 

  


“Náhkôhma'heóná'e!” She spat towards him, making him lean back a little in surprise.  She laughed at that reaction and then smiled, showing her few teeth, “You call me English name... Bear Mother.  We good.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded, sighing in relief.  He then tipped his head to the side curiously and asked, “Ava.... Avon....”

  


 

  


“Avonaco!” She laughed again, seeming to find his attempts at speaking the language utterly hilarious.

  


 

  


“Right.  That.  Is that Blaine?”  

  


 

  


She nodded quickly.  “Blaine whiteman name.  From father.  Avonaco from mother.  Leaning Bear.”

  


 

  


“Leaning Bear?” He arched a skeptical eyebrow.  He had heard that the names of native people seemed to focus on animals and nature, but had never actually heard any of them translated, and Blaine’s seemed like such an unlikely name for him.  Kurt didn’t know what he thought Blaine’s native name would be, but Leaning Bear certainly didn’t seem right.  More like Lone Wolf, or Steady Hand, or something perhaps a bit more romanticized.

  


 

  


“He like bear.  Strong.  Alone.  Solid.  But he need support... Leaning.”  She explained, seeming to think about each word before she said it and allowing Kurt to understand her under the accent.

  


 

  


“Alright... Well I’m Kurt.”  He pointed to himself.  “Good to meet you Bear Mother.”

  


 

  


She grinned again, and Kurt wondered how she managed to eat her food with all those gaps in her mouth.  “Kurt.  Yes.  Avonaco go.  He get tipi.  I have medicine for your hurt.  Hurt on back.”  She held out a bowl with a stinky mashed substance in it.  Kurt leaned across the fire and took it, looking at it curiously and then back to her for clarification.

  


 

  


She made movements, gesturing that it was to be rubbed on his hindquarters, probably to help with the rash and blisters from the riding.  “Oh!  Thank you!”  He smiled and nodded again, setting the bowl beside him to apply when he was alone again.

  


 

  


“Avonaco say you have pain.  Memory pain.  Nightmare.  Fear.  Terror.”  The way she said it made it sound more like a question than a statement, so Kurt nodded acknowledgingly.

  


 

  


“You stay here.  We help you.  You learn Cheyenne language.  Learn the ways.”  This time it wasn’t a question when she said it.  It sounded like she had decided for him, and Kurt desperately wished Blaine was here to verify what she was saying.  Kurt could barely pronounce a Cheyenne name and she was suggesting he learn the language.

  


 

  


He was about to shake his head no when she listed a skinny little finger up, “You stay!”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded then.  He wasn’t about to say no to this little old woman who, quite frankly, scared him.  He wasn’t sure what about her was scaring him - maybe it was that she looked like a skeleton with skin and the longest black hair he had ever seen.  Maybe it was how her skin bagged in wrinkles all over her body, especially in her face.  Maybe it was the tiny little black eyes that sat inside some of those wrinkles and seemed to look directly into his soul.  Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to say no to her.

  


 

  


“Kurt.  You’re awake.”  Oh thank goodness, thought Kurt as he heard Blaine’s voice and looked down the path to see Blaine walking toward him, followed by two other men with all three of them balancing long wooden poles on their shoulders.

  


 

  


Kurt pushed himself up, letting the blanket that had stayed on his lap topple to the ground.  He offered Blaine a smile, watching Bear Mother from the corner of an eye.  As Blaine and his accompaniment set down the poles, Blaine came to Kurt and asked, “You slept soundly last night.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded to Blaine, “Yes.  No terrors at all... Avonaco.” He winked and Blaine groaned, shaking his head.  Bear Mother laughed at the exchange and Kurt was hoping it was because Blaine seemed embarrassed and not because Kurt had mispronounced the name.

  


 

  


Bear Mother moved away from the firepit then and gestured to Kurt to do the same.  He grabbed the bowl of mush beside him and went to Blaine’s side.

  


 

  


“We need to stay for awhile.  Medicine Mother will help you, but she said it will take time.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded, looking back to the old woman at the fire who has started barking in Cheyenne at the other two men who had begun to lift up the poles to put them in place.  “Yes... she said... that I need to learn the language?”

  


 

  


Blaine nodded, casting his gaze in the same direction Kurt had his, “Yes.  There are some things that have no good translation in English.  Besides, if we’re staying here for awhile, you should be able to talk to someone else besides me.”

  


 

  


“Well she spoke English... kind of.” Kurt noted and turned back towards Blaine.

  


 

  


“She helps with trade, and since so few white men are willing to learn the language, she learned theirs.  The chief also speaks French so they can trade with either group.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded and watched as Blaine watched the other men put up the tipi.  “Have you ever done that before?”

  


 

  


“Hmm?” Blaine queried, looking back to Kurt.

  


 

  


Kurt tipped his head in the direction of the tipi, “Set one of those up?”

  


 

  


Blaine nodded, “Everyone helps.  They go up, and come down easy.  The tribe moves to different locations depending on the time of year, so movable homes are necessary.”

  


 

  


Kurt smiled, “Why don’t you help them then.  Let me see how you do it.”

  


 

  


Blaine flashed a grin back to Kurt and hurried over to help with the poles, creating a skeleton of a tipi while Kurt watched, making sure to take note of the procedure so he could help if they needed to do this again.  He watched as the hide was pulled tightly around the poles, and also how they had set the whole thing up centered over the firepit.  

  


 

  


“It doesn’t have any paintings on it like the other ones I saw....” Kurt noted.

  


 

  


Blaine rubbed some sweat off his brow with the back of his hand while he spoke, “We can do that.  Many of the paintings tell stories, or represent things about the occupants... “  He started tossing their gear into the tipi.  

  


 

  


Kurt stepped over and gently ran a finger over the taunt hide covering, feeling how smooth it was.  He made a mental note to pay attention to how the people here tanned their hides because it was difficult to tailor leather and skin, let alone craft such a large tent like structure from it.  “Tipi...” he murmured to himself, pleased that he had picked up a word without any prompting.

  


 

  


“Used to have lodge houses, when Cheyenne farmed.  Now have tipi... hunt and gather and trade.  Lakota push us west.”  He hadn’t noticed but Bear Mother had come up by him and begun speaking.  He turned to her, paying attention to her words and nodding attentively.  She reached up and patted his shoulder.

  


 

  


“Avonaco care much for you.  He want help you.  You stay.  We help.  You help us too.  Part of people here.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded, hoping he was understanding her meaning properly.  Blaine grunted near them, having crawled into the tipi to organize their gear inside.  His voice seemed to make Bear Mother smile a little more warmly and she tapped Kurt’s shoulder again, “You go.  Help Avonaco.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded obediently and crouched down to creep into the tipi, still holding the bowl of stinky mush in one hand.  He found that Blaine had, at some point, brought in a fur that had replaced their individual blankets on their bedrolls.  The cookware was set to one side, as was the rations they had with them.  Blaine was sitting on the fur covering, leaning back on his palms.  

  


 

  


“So... Leaning Bear.  You come up with that?”  Kurt grinned playfully, joining Blaine on the fur and setting down the bowl of mush finally.  The fur was deep brown and looked big enough to be from a bear.

  


 

  


“No.  Well.. not really.  You get one name as a child, like a nickname.  When you’re grown, you go on a vision quest and then tell the elders what you saw on your quest.  They give you your adult name.  I saw a bear leaning against a mountain.  I’m just lucky they didn’t call me Lazy Bear or something.  Frankly, I was disappointed I didn’t get a name with wolf or eagle... those sound better in the language."

  


 

  


Kurt laid back, snuggling into the fur.  He would definitely enjoy the warmth from that.  “What’s a vision quest?”

  


 

  


“Ah... well.... essentially you’re sent into the woods for several days on your own to commune with nature and smoke the pipe... Now, given my education, I don’t exactly believe in the whole thing, but I went through with it anyway.  I’m sure what I saw was a hallucination due to hunger and the smoke from the pipe.”

  


 

  


Kurt hummed thoughtfully, weaving his fingers together on his chest as he looked up at the tipi, which narrowed the higher up it went until a hole at the top exposed the blue sky outside.  “What was your childhood nickname then?”

  


 

  


Blaine turned his head to look down at Kurt with a furrowed brow, “Why so many questions?”

  


 

  


"Because it strikes me that I don’t really know this side to you all that well... hell.... I don’t really know you all that well when it comes down to it.   I’ve told you everything I can about myself.... I just... want to know more about you.”

  


 

  


Blaine shrugged a little, “Mamakha... Means curly haired....”

  


 

  


Kurt chuckled a little at that, and Blaine’s expression turned sour.  “Sorry... I think it’s cute... and definitely fitting.”

  


 

  


“Have they called you Vehoe yet...?”

  


 

  


Kurt stopped chuckling and then thought back, nodding when he recalled his conversation with Bear Mother, “Yes...”

  


 

  


“It means white man.  They may call you that.  Some people will mean it descriptively... others might mean it in a negative way.”

  


 

  


“Why?”

  


 

  


Blaine moved one of his hands to settle on Kurt’s, “Bad trades... bad encounters... Bear Mother meant it harmlessly... she was just describing you.  To others, you may have to earn their respect before they treat you with kindness.  Not everyone here is a noble savage.”

  


 

  


Kurt wrapped his fingers around the hand that Blaine had offered him, “Noble savage?”

  


 

  


“Yes.... the way natives are portrayed in stories and pictures I’ve seen.  Like all they are is primitive, uneducated people whose whole life is founded on an honor system.  There are good and bad people, just like there are in any white town, and the way they live is just different, not worse or better, but different.”

  


 

  


Kurt hummed again.  It was the most Blaine had spoken all at once in a long time, and part of Kurt was thrilled to be able to hear his voice and spend the time with him.  Despite the ache in his rear, it was worth it to come here.  The other half of Kurt was uncomfortable in this new situation, and not sure what to think, especially with Blaine telling him that some would probably not be warm to Kurt.  

  


 

  


“Will you teach me Cheyenne?”

  


 

  


Blaine nodded, laying himself down on his side while keeping his one hand entwined with Kurt’s.  “As best as I can.  Try this... one’ahe.”

  


 

  


“Oh..ne... a... he.”

  


 

  


“Faster.”

  


 

  


“One’ahe.”

  


 

  


Blaine beamed and Kurt knew he had nailed it.

  


 

  


“It means handsome.” Blaine explained and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead which Kurt leaned into happily.  It was the most domestic they had been in a long while and Kurt was enjoying it thoroughly.  How nice it would be if they could settle down and have a home of their own.  Maybe have their own little farm away from everything else.

  


 

  


“Roll onto your stomach.”  Blaine commanded then, and Kurt looked over to his face, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.

  


 

  


“I’ll put that stuff on you.  It will help with the pain.”  Blaine explained, pointing towards the bowl Bear Mother had given Kurt.

  


 

  


“Alright...” Kurt grumbled and rolled over, pulling down his pants awkwardly and feeling exposed.  This wasn’t like when they had sex at all.  It was downright embarrassing and reminded him of when Tina washed him while he was in the infirmary in Lima.  However he was willing to try anything to get rid of the burning ache, even put up with the embarrassment of having a putrid smelling ointment rubbed on his naked backside.

  


 

  


Blaine put the bowl in his own lap and took a little bit of the mash onto his fingers at a time, spreading it gently in circles over Kurt’s lower back and rear.  Kurt winced, not because it hurt, in fact, he could feel it tingle and numbing on him.  He winced because despite his willingness to do this, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed at his need to be cared for once again.  It seemed to be an ongoing trend in his life lately, and he wished for the day when he could be independent once more.

  


 

  


“I can hear you thinking.” Blaine said plainly as he worked.

  


 

  


Kurt gave him a grunt in response.

  


 

  


“I think you’d be happy to have me take care of your ass.” Blaine said, and Kurt, even though he wasn’t looking, could feel Blaine smirk as he said it.  This was the Blaine he first met.  The cocky, crude man who hid his feelings behind an obnoxious facade.  

  


 

  


“I’m tired of being taken care of.”

  


 

  


Blaine hummed to himself thoughtfully and set the bowl to the side, empty of the mash now.  “Let yourself be taken care of for awhile so we can make you better, and then you’ll be able to be that fierce, slap happy boy I met in Lima.”

  


 

  


Kurt grinned at that.  Twice he had slapped Blaine.  It would have been three times but then they managed to get caught up in a fit of passion.  

  


 

  


Blaine must have caught the side of his grin because he responded, “Thought it might cheer you up to remember how you like to hurt me.”  Blaine laid down then, beside Kurt so they could look at one another as they laid in their bed.

  


 

  


“Well you were asking for it.”

  


 

  


Blaine smiled to him, reaching a hand up to move away a stray piece of hair that had drifted onto Kurt’s forehead, “I was just letting you know how attractive you were in the only way I knew how then.”

  


 

  


Kurt rolled his eyes, “Poor Cheyenne women.  If that’s the kind of lines they’re used to anyhow.”

  


 

  


Blaine grinned and remained quiet for a minute, just watching Kurt, who watched him back.  After that minute, his face became serious.

  


 

  


“Bear Mother knows the nature of our relationship, but it would be best to otherwise keep it to ourselves and just act like friends around the rest.”

  


 

  


Kurt nodded.  The world wasn’t safe for people like them, and they were always careful in public.  People tended to assume the innocent about them, thinking they were just friends who travelled together and not anything more.

  


 

  


“I know I spoke about two spirited people being accepted... and that’s generally been true.... but the influence of white men has affected some of the Cheyenne, and I would just feel a lot safer if we stuck to the same old routine, especially since we’re going to stick around and get you help here.”

  


 

  


Blaine look troubled as he explained that last bit and Kurt nodded again, adding, “It’s alright Blaine.  Really.  I know we’re not normal and it’s safer to keep that a secret.”

  


 

  


Blaine smiled weakly back to Kurt, “Thanks...”

  


 

  


“Bear Mother.... you told her?”

  


 

  


Blaine shook his head, “She knows.  She is good at reading people.  She’s like your friend Santana from Lima, but her love died a long while ago so it’s not been a concern for her.”

  


 

  


“She seems to care about you a lot....”

  


 

  


Blaine smiled softly and nodded, “That’s because she’s, technically, my great aunt.  My mother’s aunt, and the one who raised her.  She’s kind of a grandmother to me.”

  


 

  


Kurt lit up and lifted his head, “Really?”

  


 

  


“Oh calm down white boy.” Blaine teased, watching Kurt’s reaction with amusement.  “The tribe ultimately take care of everyone.  It’s not like where you came from where blood is thicker than water.”

  


 

  


Kurt huffed and dropped his head back down.  “Still.  This is the first relative I’ve ever met of yours.  It’s a big deal to me.  I wish I knew that before I tried pronouncing her Cheyenne name and managed to hack it up badly.”

  


 

  


Blaine chuckled at the thought of it, making Kurt snort derisively.  “Well, for whatever reason, she’s always had a soft spot for me, so I’m sure she’ll like you just fine.  Just work hard on your Cheyenne and try to help and you’ll be fine.”

  


 

  


“I want to help.  I do.  I’m tired of being useless.”

  


 

  


“With an ass like that you’ll never be useless to me.”

  


 

  


Kurt playfully reached over to smack Blaine on the chest, who in turn feigned hurt.  They laughed and eventually both boys fell asleep for a mid-morning nap, arms tangled around one another.

  


 

  


And in his dreams, Kurt heard his father cry out as Kurt hung from a noose. 


	3. Chapter 3

The tribe was playing drums around the main fire in the center of the village and while Kurt cooked supper for himself and Blaine, he found himself absently dancing along to the beat of the drums. They had been in the village for two weeks now and Kurt was doing his best to learn the language as quickly as he could so he could move forward with the healing process. Bear Mother had him drinking a tea that was laced with something that allowed him to sleep without dreaming, but the sleep he was getting wasn't as restful overall. Apparently you needed to have dreams to have a good sleep, and that put Kurt in-between a rock and a hard place.

Blaine had gone hunting with some of his old friends this particular afternoon. He had been hesitant to leave Kurt alone, but Kurt had insisted, pushing him out of the tipi. Now Kurt was making him a stew from the rabbit Blaine had trapped yesterday along with some squash and corn that Bear Mother had given them. While the stew bubbled over the fire, Kurt had kneaded the dough for the bannock that Bear Mother had taught him to make, but now that the bannock was frying up, he had his hands free, and so he found himself bobbing along to the beat of the drums.

He didn't understand all the words being chanted along with the beat of the drums, at least not yet, so Kurt substituted his own as he danced, cleaning up around the tipi as he moved.

"Got to get my body moving... shake the stress away..."

Kurt grabbed some of Blaine's dusty clothes and crawled out of the tipi, continuing to dance and sing along to the beat of the drums as he shook out the clothes.

"I want to take you away... let's escape into the music..."

A chorus of giggles made Kurt stop in mid-spin and he looked wide eyed to the group of young women who apparently had been watching him, tanning hides not too far off but in what would have been a blind spot to Kurt when he came out of the tipi. He flushed bright red and made an awkward, clearly embarrassed smile in their direction.

"Sorry."

One of the girls chuckled and walked towards Kurt, speaking simply for Kurt's benefit, "It's okay. Dance?" She held out her hands and Kurt beamed, setting down Blaine's clothes and taking the hands of the girl and leading her in a dance around the area, being clapped on by the other girls who watched. Kurt found himself surprised at first, that she could dance along with him so easily, but then happy as he realized he had made his first successful exchange with others in the village.

Kurt started singing along to the beat of the drums again, which had changed their tempo, "When it rains, you're shining down on me..."

The girls laughed and kept up their clapping while the young lady Kurt was dancing with tried mimicking his words in a very choppy attempt at English, which she laughed at herself for when she realized it was harder than she thought, and Kurt smiled, for of all people, he understood right now how difficult learning a new language was.

"What's going on here?!" A strong male voice bellowed and the clapping stopped abrubtly and Kurt found his hands emptied as the girl he was dancing with rapidly took several steps backward.

Kurt looked to the source of the voice, finding himself looking at one of the Dog Warriors of the tribe, a select group of men who were considered the best warriors and hunters. The man was steely eyed as he glared at Kurt, who tried to offer him a smile which was not returned.

"Leave the women alone white man." The warrior spat and Kurt swallowed nervously, not sure of what he had done to particularly offend this man, but then Blaine's words came back to him. Some of the tribe wouldn't like him just because of the colour of his skin. Racism was not limited to the white alone. Kurt nodded to the warrior, not wanting to cause trouble, but also because his vocabulary was still limited enough that he didn't think he could engage in a conversation with the man before him.

The warrior snorted and walked off then, the women looking apologetically to Kurt before returning to the business of tanning hides. Kurt sighed and decided to check on dinner then, in the safety and privacy of the tipi where he wasn't likely to get in any trouble.

He flipped the bannock, noting that he had managed to brown one side perfectly. The first time he had tried making the fried bread, he had burned it horribly and received a full Cheyenne tongue lashing from Bear Mother. The bread was greasy, but in an absolutely delicious way, and it went well with everything. He wanted to make sure he was good at making it because he had seen how eagerly Blaine ate up Bear Mother's bannock, and realized it was probably a favourite of his.

Kurt went to their rations and food supplies to get their mugs out, intending to make coffee for them both. When he pulled the cups out, Blaine's flask fell out with it. Kurt picked up the old metal flask and unscrewed the lid, taking a sniff, and frowning as he immediately recognized the scent of whiskey. He knew Blaine was still drinking, but generally kept it out of sight of Kurt since he knew Kurt didn't care for it. Kurt could still smell it on his breath though, and tell when Blaine imbibed too much from the looseness of his words. What Blaine didn't realize though was that Kurt had kept his knowledge about the matter to himself since he could hardly criticize Blaine when he was a mess himself.

Kurt tucked the flask back into the pack it came from and grabbed another pot to make the coffee in. Blaine had filled up a bucket with water earlier today so Kurt didn't have to go out to collect water for the coffee, just get some scoops from the bucket.

Kurt was stirring the stew when the entry flap was pulled open and Blaine crouched in, smiling broadly towards Kurt. "We got two large deer for the village."

Kurt smiled back to him, reaching for a bowl to scoop some stew into which he then passed to Blaine who licked his lips hungrily. Kurt offered him a piece of the bannock which Blaine used as a spoon for the stew, moaning softly with appreciation which was the best compliment Kurt could have asked for.

"You did very good." Blaine spoke in Cheyenne and Kurt smiled, understanding it all.

"Thank you." He replied, sitting down with his own bowl and bannock and eating along with Blaine. He had done well with the meal tonight. His stomach growled thankfully.

They ate quietly, Kurt taking his time while Blaine ate like it was going to be stolen away from him before filling up his bowl with seconds.

"There was a lot of drumming going on this afternoon, and a chanting that went along with it." Kurt noted, setting down his bowl as he finished.

Blaine finished noisily slurping some stew off the end of a piece of bannock and nodded as he chewed, swallowing before he responded, "It will be the height of summer soon. Time for the sun dance. They're probably preparing."

"Oh a dance!" Kurt lit up, "I haven't been to a dance in years now. The Evans family had a big dance once in a barn they had just hoisted and invited all the local families. It was lots of fun."

Blaine snorted and looked to Kurt with a shake of his head, "It's not that kind of dance. It's ceremonial. It goes on for four days and nights, and there will be a gathering of all Cheyenne tribes local to this land.

Kurt's jaw dropped, "Four whole days and nights of dancing? That sounds exhausting!"

Blaine nodded, "Dancers are specially chosen and trained by those who have danced at least four times beforehand. During this time, elders will fast to show their support, while the young feast. You may be invited to use the peacepipe, but I'm not sure you should..."

Kurt arched an eyebrow, "And why is that?"

"Because it can give visions... and I don't want you to have bad visions given... what you've been going through."

Kurt nodded slowly and before he could think to respond, Blaine was speaking again.

"Also... some warriors will pierce themselves as a show of sacrifice to the Wise One Above and the God Below the Ground. It can be a little... gruesome."

Kurt tensed a little, "Please tell me that they're just piercing their ears or..."

"Their chests."

Kurt went white and his lips pursed together. After a moment of allowing his stomach to settle with that information, he address Blaine again, "Please tell me you won't..."

"Do that? No. Never." Blaine set his bowl down, having finished off three helpings of the stew by this point and all of the bannock. He placed a hand on Kurt's thigh gently, reassuringly. "I know I tend towards this part of my blood, but it's not what rules me."

Kurt nodded slowly, putting his own hand on top of the one Blaine had on him, his eyes looking down to that connection between them. "Then why don't you ever talk about the white half of you?"

Blaine sighed, and Kurt recognized it as a sigh specific to Blaine not wanting to talk, but Blaine, for once, did. "I didn't spend a lot of time with my father, so I don't feel the connection as much..."

"But you were educated in white society, so who did you spend the time with?"

"Boarding school. Dalton. In Philadelphia. I actually..." Blaine seemed to think before he continued, "... I actually really enjoyed it there."

Kurt smiled and looked towards Blaine, nodding his head once to beckon him to go on. Blaine smirked a little at the look he was getting from Kurt, but indulged him.

"I had a lot of friends, and I did pretty good academically. I spent most of the year there and when I was invited to spend holidays with friends and their families, so aside from the cost of tuition there, you wouldn't even have known I had a family outside of Dalton."

"I have a really difficult time imagining you as some high class boy in a little fitted suit reciting poetry for the class." Kurt chuckled, trying to form the image in his mind.

"Not just poetry! All kinds of literature and debates and spelling bees and mathematical theorems. I was an honest to goodness goody two shoes. Anything I was missing by having parents involved was compensated for by the validation of my teachers and peers."

"Wow..." Kurt shook his head, "Why did you leave then?"

Blaine's face grew dark, and his smile fell, "When I was thirteen, I made the mistake of kissing a boy and he and a group of older boys attacked me. My father was called and I was pulled out of the school for causing a disruption... He picked me up, didn't say a word, and had the driver drop him off at the house, and the carriage driver rode me all the way out to where the tribe was camped and dropped me off."

"Oh god Blaine..." Kurt leaned forward immediately and wrapped his arms around Blaine, who had gone stiff and tense with the memory. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

Blaine gave a little shake, as if to physically shake off the memory he had brought up, and wrapped his arms around Kurt, "It's alright. Medicine Mother... she took care of me. Raised me like I was her own, and then I found you, Naehame, and we're going to fix you and everything will be fine."

Kurt listened to the beat of Blaine's heart, wondering if Blaine was trying to convince himself or Kurt of that. He wanted to ask where Blaine's mother was throughout all of this, but given Blaine's reactions to his questions about his mother in the past, he didn't dare. One bad memory was probably more than enough for now.

"When are you going to teach me what Naehame means?" Kurt asked, timing his breaths to Blaine's as he kept huddled against him.

Kurt could feel Blaine running his hand over Kurt's hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he whispered, "When will you just let me relax and hold you in peace?"

Kurt chuckled and quieted, but inwardly was irritated, another question that was dodged by Blaine time and time again. Blaine could be calling him an ass for all Kurt knew. And so what if Kurt wanted to talk to Blaine more than Blaine wanted to talk at all? Kurt had no one else to talk to and even when things were at their worst in Lima, he always had Santana, Rachel, and Quinn. Was it right to feel so lonely when you were with the one you loved?

Kurt suddenly felt desperate to feel loved, and so his hands pushed back against Blaine's chest, pressing him down onto the fur blanket. Blaine's eyes widened for a moment in surprise and then narrowed as they looked down at Kurt, his pupils pooling wide in lust with a lopsided grin edging onto his face.

Kurt pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side, quickly moving to slide off his own trousers and brief so within a moment he was fully nude while Blaine watched the process, his breath slowing and deepening.

"You should get naked too if you're expecting any attention from me tonight." Kurt noted, sitting back on his knees as he watched and waited for Blaine to join him in his state of undress.

Blaine groaned and shuffled himself out of his pants and briefs, pulling off his shirt along with the undershirt he wore at once. Blaine was already fully at attention, and under the glow of the fire by them, looked like a vision out of one of those romantic novels Rachel liked to read.

Kurt knelt forward and pressed kisses to the insides of Blaine's thighs, sucking gently to leave a small trail of hickeys up towards Blaine's erection where he licked his tongue up the length of Blaine's cock and then pulled his lips over the top. All the while, Blaine trembled and moaned, muffling the noises coming out of his mouth with a fist in his mouth. Kurt knew without looking that Blaine was looking down and watching him work. Blaine loved to see Kurt working him.

Kurt put a hand on each of Blaine's hips to hold him back from bucking into his mouth while he rolled his lips up and down the pulsing cock, trailing his tongue along with the movements. He knew from experience that if he didn't keep Blaine's hips forced back that he could end up gagging as Blaine jerked automatically into the back of his throat. This gave Kurt the control he needed.

Kurt pulled off the cock with a smacking sound and looked up towards Blaine, "Grab the oil..." he commanded before rolling his tongue up over Blaine's erection. He got a groan in response but he could see from the corner of his eye that Blaine's free hand was fumbling in a nearby bag as it searched for the oil, finally finding it and rolling the glass bottle towards Kurt.

He grabbed it and popped himself off Blaine's cock, receiving a whine of protest from the man under him. Kurt chuckled, uncorking the bottle and dribbling the oil into his hand. He moved that hand down between Blaine's legs, who spread them invitingly, and pressed a finger right up into the dark warmth until it was fully buried and Blaine was tense with what Kurt knew was the sharp pain of being filled. He thrust the finger back and forth until the tension in Blaine had left and Blaine whimpered for more.

Kurt added another finger and thrust again until the tension faded, slipping in a third finger without waiting to be prompted. He knew Blaine's body. He knew how to angle his fingers up to hit the right spot which made Blaine shudder and bite on his fist to keep the village from hearing him. Kurt watched Blaine's cock tense up then, and he knew it was time to pull out the fingers or else it would only be Blaine orgasming tonight.

Blaine whined again with the emptiness that came from losing the fingers, but Kurt had gotten quick at this and had himself oiled and pressed up against Blaine's ass within a moment, thrusting forward into Blaine, so tight and warm around him. Kurt had to bite his own lower lip to keep himself from moaning too loudly now as well.

He didn't wait for Blaine to coax him along, thrusting quickly, ravenously. His teeth beared down on each other to keep himself quiet as he slapped himself again and again against Blaine, the only sound they couldn't stop being Kurt's testicles smacking against Blaine's ass.

He felt Blaine tightening all around him and looked down to see Blaine coming across his own stomach and chest. Kurt closed his eyes, protecting them from the sweat rolling down his face now as he continued to buck himself madly into Blaine until he stopped, buried completely in Blaine, and filled him up with his orgasm, allowing a small gasp to escape his lips.

He stayed frozen in place for a moment, until one of Blaine's hands reached up to wipe the sweat from his brows, and Kurt dared to reopen his eyes, gazing down at the gorgeous boy below him who was looking back at him with a soft smile and a look of complete bliss.

Kurt smiled back weakly, pulling himself back and causing both of the men to hiss softly, Blaine from the ache of emptiness and Kurt from losing the warmth around him. He grabbed his shirt and wiped off Blaine's torso and tucked it gently under his ass to allow the cum to fall onto the shirt and not clump up on the fur instead. Blaine murmured thanks and by the time Kurt had crawled in beside him, Blaine had fallen asleep.

Kurt watched Blaine sleep for awhile, wrapping an arm around him and huddling against him. No post orgasmic talk, no cuddling, and certainly not the feeling of being loved that Kurt had wanted. He wondered if he even really loved him, as he watched the rise and fall of his chest. Blaine had saved him, freed him. Maybe it was just hero worship. Or maybe he did love Blaine - but who was Blaine? Sometimes he was the strong, quiet native, and other times he was the crass white man... and other times... Kurt didn't know how to place him in those other moments.

Kurt looked to the pot of coffee they hadn't drank, the empty stew pot, bowls, and frying pan. Was he supposed to keep playing house so Blaine could do as he pleased? Perhaps tomorrow he would ask someone new to help him with his Cheyenne so he could learn the language faster and have more people to speak to. He couldn't keep living in a shadow in any case, nightmares or not. He needed to make some choices to preserve his independence before he was no longer Kurt Hummel, and only Naehame, whatever that was.


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm not talking about this anymore Kurt." Blaine walked away from him outside their tipi where they had been debating for the past ten minutes.

Kurt folded his arms over his chest, heels already dug into the dirt below his feet.  His face was firm, resolute.  "You don't get to make these choices for me.  I'm doing it."

"No.  It was a mistake for them to invite you. You're asking for trouble." Blaine spun in spot, his hands moving to either side of his body in an exasperated gesture.  Beyond them, a small group of curious older children were watching them argue, but Kurt was relying on the fact that none of them would be able to understand Blaine or himself as they spoke heatedly.

"Bear Mother seemed to think it was a good idea." Kurt informed Blaine, whose wide triangular eyebrows rose in surprise and then pressed together in confusion.  Kurt kept talking before Blaine could get a word in.  "Besides.  You say trouble but you never really elaborate on what that means.  What trouble could I possibly get into Blaine?"

“You just could.” Blaine huffed and gave an angry glance back towards the children who make small yelps of surprise at being spotted and scattered away rapidly under the glare.

Kurt shook his head and stepped over to Blaine, setting a hand on his shoulder, “How about you let me worry about me for a change?”

Blaine looked at the hand as if it was completely foreign and then up at Kurt’s face, “Fine.  You get into your own trouble.  I wash my hands of it.”  He shrugged Kurt’s shoulder off him and stormed off, leaving Kurt standing there rolling his eyes.

Kurt had been invited by some of the other young men in the tribe to a sweat lodge that evening.  According to Bear Mother a sweat lodge was when men came together in a hut and steamed themselves to help purify themselves, since their bodies didn’t purify themselves naturally every month like a woman’s did.  During the “sweat” there would be traditional prayers and singing.  To Kurt, it sounded like a fantastic way to experience Cheyenne culture and get to know the people around him better.

As Bear Mother tutored Kurt in the language during the day, more and more curious community members had stopped to try out Kurt’s ability to use the language.  For the most part they were kind, finding his attempt to learn Cheyenne utterly amusing.  Some of the young men had begun to help him with his basic dialogue skills as well, and he had begun to feel more comfortable with the people as he was able to understand most of what they said.

He knew the sun dance would be happening soon, as activity in the tribe increased.  The hides they had seen being tanned by women were intended to be traded with tribes who were coming to share in the celebration.  Young men who had been chosen as dancers could be seen training for hours each day under the watchful eyes of instructors.  The drummers practiced their songs with increasingly skill.  Food was gathered in larger than normal quantities to help feed newcomers who might not have brought enough of their own.  

For Kurt it wasn’t unlike watching the activity prior to the Cowpoke Competition back in Lima.  Everyone seemed either excited or nervous, while he watched and waited in the background.  Blaine spent a portion of his days hunting, either alone or with old acquaintances.  Kurt hesitated to call them friends of Blaines because they never seemed to talk when they were together in the village and Blaine hadn’t introduced them to Kurt officially.

In fact, Kurt had noticed that aside from Bear Mother and the occasional brief dialogue with others, Blaine didn’t really spend too much time with anyone in the tribe.  He still kept to himself and spent most of his time with Kurt, who in turn was making an effort to get to know people in the tribe and make his own connections since Blaine wasn’t helping him with that part of the integration into the tribe.

Kurt watched Blaine walk off until he couldn’t see him anymore and then walked himself to where the sweat lodge had been built.  It was dome shaped, made out of bent branches and covered in layers of leaves and then hides.  He had watched some of its construction, noting how the men who built it remained completely silent through the building and also fasted while it was built.  The traditions of the Cheyenne continued to fascinate and confuse him.

Now the lodge had a group of young men outside of it, including the couple young men who had invited Kurt and now waved him over to them.  He joined and listened to two of the elders talk, speaking of respect and gratitude that must be displayed in the sweat ceremony.  Before they could enter, Kurt and the men he was with had to smudge their faces, kneeling before a bowl of burning sweet grass and casting the fumes over their faces.

And wow.  The sweat lodge was dark inside.  Pitch black.  Kurt had always thought nighttimes was dark, but there was always fires and stars.  Inside the lodge, no light could get in.  His eyes didn’t even adjust to see shapes around him it was that black.  The only way he knew where to sit was the follow the sound of the man who led him in.

A hollowed stick was passed around with something inside it to make it shake.  In turn, each man spoke his name and what he was thankful for.  When the stick reached Kurt, he swallowed, nervous about what would be his first public Cheyenne speaking.

“<I am Kurt.  I am thankful for... this experience, and your acceptance.>”

Kurt shook the stick and passed it along, grateful for the appreciative hum he heard from the men around him after he spoke and relaxing in place.

Once they had all shared, water and herbs were put on the hot stones in the center of the lodge, causing a sharp increase in the heat.  Kurt found himself sweltering, but not in the unclean way that sweat usually made him feel - this sweat made him feel clean somehow.

The elders led the group in a song, which Kurt awkwardly tried to sing along with.  He didn’t know it though, and didn’t know all the words, so it was haphazard at best, but one of the men beside him patted him on the back supportively and again, he felt alright.

In fact, the sweat was amazing.  It was relaxing and calming, and allowed him to connect with the other men around in a way he never thought he might have.  He joined in on more songs, laughed along with stories, and hummed along with drumming.  It was going so well, until...

An herb was cast onto the stones by one of the elders, and Kurt smelled something spicy - but also sweet.  As his eyes looked out into the black, he started to see coils of purple smoke and found himself frozen.  Was he the only one seeing that?  Was it normal?

The smoke started forming shapes before his eyes.  First simple shapes, an S, a circle, and then....

In the smoke he saw himself, laying in his bed back in his room at the Lima.  Karofsky was over him, glaring at him with hate.  He saw himself, weak under Karofsky's hands which had him pinned roughly against the mattress. Kurt’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes.  No, he thought, it’s just my imagination.  I’m not actually seeing this.  He opened his eyes and the vision before him had gotten clearer.  He could see all the colours of it now.  In the vision he saw the bruises forming on his chest, see himself pleading with Karofsky, and see Karofsky punch his ribs over and over again while he rammed himself into Kurt's bleeding hole.  Then a shadow fell over the vision and everything was black again.

Kurt could feel his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to bruise his ribs from the inside with its intensity. The sweat on his brow no longer felt clean, but sticky and dirty.  He let out a sharp whimper and hastily spoke out, “<All my relations.>” indicating that he needed to leave the lodge.  

He was led outside by helping hands where he quickly ran off until he reached a nearby creek bed, dropping to his knees and splashing water on his face furiously, trying to cool himself and his heartbeat.  In the end, he ended up emptying his stomach instead, until it felt like his stomach itself was trying to come up through his throat to expel itself.  Kurt laid by the creekbed when everything was out of him, and bit down on his lower lip, forcing his tears back down.  He would not lose it.  He would keep himself together.  

Amazingly, he managed not to end up bursting into tears and bawling, which he counted as a victory for himself.  He laid there until the smell of his own vomit became too much to bear and then got himself up, walking up the creek to find some water to wash the smell off him before returning to the village where he beelined for Bear Mother’s tipi.

“<How was the sweat white boy?>” White boy was spoken as Vehoke - a pet name that Bear Mother had begun calling Kurt.  She was sitting at her fire, stirring herbs into a small pot and probably making some kind of ointment by the look of things.  

Kurt sat himself down with a sigh.  “<It was very good but then I had a vision.>”

“<Oh?  You must tell me of it.>” Bear Mother grinned toothlessly at him, clearly eager to interpret what he saw, though he knew it was a memory and not really a vision.

Kurt pressed his lips together, trying to conjure up the words that would describe to her what he saw with his limited vocabulary. "<It was Karofsky. He hurt me. He... Damaged me.>"

Bear Mother nodded, reaching for some herbs out of one of her satchels and setting them into a bowl.  She poured a bit of boiling water that she always kept going on her fire over the leaves and then handed the bowl to Kurt. "<You need to relax.  Don't fight what you saw.  You have no control over that, only control over how you respond to seeing it.>"

Kurt took the bowl, sipping the medicinal drink slowly to avoid burning his tongue.  The drink had a sweet taste to it and after he had finished it, he felt himself becoming more relaxed and at ease.  His stomach wasn't twisting anymore and his muscles had relaxed themselves.  At this point, Bear Mother beckoned him to continue.

"<Karofsky used me for sex. It wasn't loving. He....>" Kurt tried to think of the word, or something similar to describe the situation in Cheyenne, but couldn't come up with anything so he spoke it in English, "...raped... <me.  He left me bloody and broken.>"

Bear Mother nodded, seemingly unphased by this revelation.  "<And this is what you see in your dreams?>"

"<Some times.  Other times I am about to be killed by others... A rope on my neck.>" Kurt avoided looking in her eyes as he spoke, afraid to see the disgust he assumed must be there for being so weak and used.

"<These memories.  I have no way to make them go away....>" Bear Mother spoke and Kurt's face fell. "<You need to accept them as part of who you are now, and once you can accept them, you can control the way they make you feel and how you react to them.>"

"<Is there a plant I can eat for that or...?>" Kurt started but Bear Mother started laughing, her tiny bony frame shaking with the action.

"<Not everything is fixed with an ointment or a tea.  This is an affliction of the mind, so you must strengthen your mind to remedy it. >" As she spoke, Bear Mother wagged a finger at Kurt.

Kurt sighed once again. "<I should have listened to Blaine.  He told me the sweat would be trouble.>"

Bear Mother made a set of tsking noises, once again shaking her finger at Kurt.  “<Avoiding dealing with your pain will only give it more power.  You need to learn to fight it.>”

“<But how?>”

With that, Bear mother gave a small shrug, “<It is different for everyone, but the first step is always embracing the memories and accepting them.>”

Kurt nodded quietly, wondering how he was going to be able to do that.  He could scarcely think about Karofsky without feeling nauseous.

“<And as for Leaning Bear.  He is selfish in not wanting you to go to the sweat.>”

Kurt perked up and looked back towards Bear Mother, “<What do you mean?>”

“<Ask him.>”

Kurt whined, “<I tried.  He avoids telling me....>”

“<And that too, is out of his own selfishness.  I love him as a son, but he is not without his own demons to overcome.  Now go.  I have balms to make and you have a boy to talk to.> Bear Mother shook her hands towards Kurt, gesturing for him to leave.

As Kurt left Bear Mother’s tipi and walked back to his own, he tried to summon the memories he had been hiding in the depths of his mind.  Everytime his mind flashed an image of Karofsky’s face, it was as if the feelings of those times were still all fresh in his mind.  He remembered an overwhelming desire to survive, and also dissociating his mind from his body when Karofsky was abusing him, as if he was watching what was happening to him from an aerial view.  That view made him feel sick and disgusting, but more than anything, it made him mad.  

Infuriated actually would have been a more appropriate term for the feelings he was dredging up, except he didn’t know where to direct the anger.  Karofsky was the likely choice, but it was like focusing the anger on him was too obvious, besides, Kurt got his revenge on Karofsky - the man would have to use a cane for the rest of his life and would need help for everything from cutting his own food to wiping his ass now.  

No.  The anger was for himself.  For allowing it to happen.  But what could he have done?  

“Naehame....” Blaine broke Kurt out of his train of thought from where he was sitting at a fire he had set up outside the tipi, roasting some hunk of meat over it.  As Kurt approached, Blaine had spoken, almost a greeting.

Kurt sighed and went to sit beside Blaine automatically.  “What are you cooking?”

“Deer.”  Blaine answered, though he was busy examining Kurt’s face as he spoke and clearly wasn’t fully focused on the cooking.

“What is it?” Kurt asked, looking directly at Blaine and feeling a twinge of the anger coming up to the surface again as he did.  

“How was the sweat?”

Kurt cocked an eyebrow.  “Interesting.” was all he said, choosing not to share with Blaine the details of the vision he had and the talk afterwards with Bear Mother.  After what she had said, Kurt was beginning to suspect Blaine was hiding things himself.

Blaine nodded, seeming satisfied with the response, though a little hesitant to stop looking over Kurt, as if he expected him to say more.  It made sense that he would expect Kurt to say more since Kurt usually gave a lot more detail than that.

“Why didn’t you want me to go Blaine?  Everyone there treated me well.”

Blaine frowned and looked away, but Kurt immediately put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t avoid me.  Tell me.  I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“Just... “  Blaine lifted his head as he began speaking, looking as if he was ready to say a lot then and there and Kurt let his hand retreat back to his lap, ready to listen, eager to hear what Blaine had been hiding.

But just as quickly as it looked like Blaine was about to share his soul with Kurt, he got up and walked off once again, leaving Kurt with the deer meat over the fire, and anger in the place of hope. Kurt yelled after him, “Fine!  Keep running away!”

He could see Blaine stiffen and tense from his words, but the half-blooded boy just kept walking away and Kurt stoked the fire until the meat was burnt up and inedible.  He felt like he wanted something destroyed.  He was letting the anger consume him, like the fire consumed the meat.  Is this was Bear Mother wanted?  For him to accept his rage?  And then do what with it?  

“<Just like a white man to waste food.>”

Kurt looked over to the source of the voice, finding himself looking again at the same man that had interrupted him from the dance with the girl.  This time however, Kurt wasn’t afraid to question him.  “<What is your problem with me?>”

“<You keep bad company.>” Was the terse reply from the venomous looking man.

“<You mean Leaning Bear?>”

“<Yes.  VERY bad company.>”

“<And why would you say that?>”  Kurt stood up, walking towards the man who held his ground until they were toe to toe and eye to eye.

“<He brought dishonor to himself and this tribe.  He is more of a whiteman than you are with his deception and disloyalty.>”

Kurt’s eyes narrow, and then he speaks slowly, “<Tell me what he did.>”


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt sat with the man who had identified himself as Pale Crow and listened intently.

"Leaning Bear came to the tribe as a young boy. He was hurt so Bear Mother took care of him. His own mother came to see him all the time, but was now committed to another man and family, so could not stay with him all the time. Her name was Little Bear."

"Why all the bears in their family?" Kurt queried but Pale Crow lifted up a hand and continued the story.

"He stayed with Bear Mother and learned our language and customs quickly. He impressed all the elders with his ability to adapt to our way of life so fast. He quickly became a favourite, and elders were always eager to teach him skills that the rest of us would have been honored to learn. Bear Mother taught him her healing trade, he became the best shot with a bow and arrow - better than any of our long trained warriors. He could track like no one else had seen before. With his white man language and blood, he was able to help us trade with them and get better deals. To those older he was a gift, to those younger, he was a role model, to those of us who were his peers... we knew him for what he was."

"Which was?" Kurt quirked up an eyebrow.

"A wolf in sheeps clothing. He was overconfident, bragged to us about his abilities, and had no shame. All the young girls wouldn't even look at the rest of us because they all held hope that he would choose them, and he knew it. He never picked an intended from among them leaving the rest of us without any hope to court any of the girls as they all vied for him."

Kurt pursed his lips at that. Clearly Pale Crow didn't realize why Blaine didn't choose a female counterpart, but Kurt was not about to reveal that. "Are you sure you weren't just jealous...?"

Pale Crow sneered, "Of course we all were, but we also knew we were. It wasn't just that which caused him to leave this tribe."

Kurt nodded, "Then please, continue."

"He was chosen to be a Dog Warrior. That was hardly a surprise to anyone, but he was chosen by the elders earlier than anyone anticipated. His mother and Bear Mother were so proud. The whole tribe was. He continued to help with trade throughout it all, and the white men who traded with us. The white men would give him their drinks as a bonus to the trades, which he shared with us despite the elders rules against drinking their drinks."

"Alcohol." Kurt supplied, and Pale Crow nodded in acknowledgement.

"The elders had seen too many people lose themselves to the alcohol, so they prohibited it within the tribe. Leaning Bear considered himself above the rules though, and drank freely with those of us who would drink with him, often to the point of having dark visions - the ones we weren't supposed to have. I got to that point once, and the sickness I felt from it made me swear off it. More and more though, Leaning Bear imbibed to the point of losing his ability to focus and be respectful. He became rude and when Bear Mother discovered what he was doing, she and the elders tried to stop him from drinking, but he had bottles of drink hidden everywhere... he would sneak off and drink some."

Kurt frowned, thinking to all the time lately he and Blaine had argued and Blaine had wandered off. It had never occurred to Kurt to consider what Blaine was doing while he was gone, but now Kurt put the pieces together. Blaine always came back with alcohol on his breath. He was hiding his drinking from Kurt like he had been hiding it from his people before.

"Eventually Blaine was not permitted to help with trade anymore, to stop him from getting anymore drink. He became angrier and without us knowing, he went to trade with a Lakota tribe. He stole some of the goods our tribe made to make the trades. Once again, he was caught by Bear Mother and the chief made an agreement with the Lakota chief not to trade with Leaning Bear again. So... Leaning Bear went and started stealing from the Lakota tribe in the night. The drink had taken him over. In retaliation, the Lakota attacked... and Leaning Bear's mother was among the victims."

Kurt sucked in a sharp breath. No wonder Blaine never wanted to talk about his mother. He was, ultimately, the cause of her death, and despite that, he continued to drink to drown his pain.

Pale Crow looked down sadly. "It was my father she was with. My younger siblings... they are also his younger siblings by your standards. She was the only mother I knew as mine died when I was a baby. He didn't just kill his mother, he killed the only mother I knew."

No wonder Pale Crow was so angry, and so venomous towards Blaine, and by association, Kurt.

"He left after that. Despite everything, Bear Mother still wanted him to stay, but she was the only one who would speak to him after that. You have this idea that we don't care for you because you're a white man... and while we may be suspicious of you, and cautious, that doesn't mean we don't like you. What we are most concerned about is Leaning Bear being back."

Kurt nodded, looking down at his lap. When it was clear that Pale Crow was done speaking, Kurt spoke softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know all this."

"And I am sorry for thinking you did. I thought you knew and were the kind of person that didn't care. Perhaps what some of them say is right though and he had changed."

Kurt shook his head, "No... he still drinks. Too much."

Pale Crow snorted in distaste, shaking his head. Silence hung between the two men for a minute before the native spoke again.

"Perhaps though, if he was concerned enough about your welfare to come here and face his demons, he had changed. The only person Leaning Bear cared about was himself when he was young."

Kurt sighed and looked off into the plains past his tipi. "Thank you for telling me all this."

Pale Crow nodded and stood up, taking that as a cue to leave. Kurt continued to look off into the distance, though wasn't really looking at anything in particular as he did. He was trying to reconcile what he just heard and the irritation he had already been feeling towards Blaine with the affection he had for him, despite it all.

Kurt got up after awhile, and into the tipi, going through their things and taking the flask and a couple bottles of whiskey out as he found them. He then went outside and poured them all into the dirt.

"What the hell are you doing?" Blaine's voice gave Kurt a start, but, determined, he continued pouring, not looking to where Blaine was approaching him.

"You need to stop this." Kurt said plainly, tossing the bottles to the ground as they emptied.

Blaine made a sound akin to a growl and tried to grab the flask out of Kurt's hands as Kurt poured it out, though Kurt shifted enough seeing the movement to escape Blaine's hands.

"I know Blaine..."

Blaine stopped trying to grab for the flask and let his hands drop to his side. Kurt heard him take in a sharp breath and then ask, "Know what...?"

Kurt tossed the now empty flask to the ground and looked up at Blaine, revealing his eyes brimming with tears he was holding back, "I know why you left here. I know why you run off everytime you won't talk to me. I know you're medicating yourself with this stuff while I work my ass off trying to deal with my own pain."

Blaine's own eyes immediately began tearing up and he looked away and down to the dirt to hide the sorrow in his face. "I didn't want you to know..."

"Why? Why Blaine?" Kurt threw his arms up in the air and took a step closer to Blaine who flinched but stayed in place. "I told you all the nitty gritty things about me and what I've gone through but you don't think enough of me to tell me that? Meanwhile you continue to drink yourself stupid all the time? That's what you were just doing wasn't it? Let me smell your breath!"

Blaine tensed and shook his head, "Kurt... please..."

"Let me smell your breath Blaine."

"You don't need to... I was drinking." Blaine swallowed as he spoke and Kurt watched his hands ball into fists at his side.

"Why?"

"It takes the edge off."

Kurt reached to put a finger to Blaine's chin, lifting up his face so he could look at him directly in the watery amber eyes, "You can't tell me to deal with my pain if you aren't willing to deal with yours."

Blaine flinched and shook his head against Kurt's finger, "Your pain wasn't your fault... mine was. My mother died because of me."

"And you think drowning yourself in the stuff that prompted that to happen in the first place is going to honor her memory?"

Blaine's eyes went wide with surprise and again he tried to snap his head to the side to hide his face from Kurt. Kurt, however, placed a hand on each side of Blaine's face to hold it in place, looking at him. "Don't avoid me Blaine."

"Kurt..." Blaine dug his teeth gently into his lower lip, biting it to no doubt suppress his tears.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to hate me."

Now it was Kurt's turn to go wide eyed, his face going pale as he thought back rapidly to all the times Blaine tried to keep him from socializing with anyone else in the tribe aside from Bear Mother. Blaine hadn't wanted Kurt to find out about his past. It wasn't to keep Kurt safe from being treated as a white man, it was to keep Blaine safe from the fall out of Kurt knowing.

"You're selfish." Kurt spat and let go of Blaine's face, turning to crawl into the tipi. After a minute, Blaine tentatively entered to find Kurt packing up his gear.

"Kurt... please..."

"No." Kurt looked back at Blaine with stormy eyes. "I followed you. I trusted you. I learned Cheyenne. I followed the customs. You... you've lied to me. You never trusted me. This isn't working."

Blaine's mouth opened slightly as if he was going to speak, but closed again as he watched Kurt with pleading eyes.

"I'm going to sleep outside tonight and tomorrow I'm leaving." Kurt announced and he heard Blaine make a small whine.

"But... Bear Mother... getting better..."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "I will say my goodbyes to her... as for getting better - I think she will have her hands full with you."

Blaine winced and looked away again, letting Kurt go past him to the outside.

As Kurt set up his bedroll outside by the fire there, he could hear the odd muffled sob from within the tipi and Kurt allowed himself tears as well, though kept himself silent. He kept telling himself he was doing the right thing. Relationships were built on trust and he couldn't trust Blaine. Blaine certainly hadn't trusted Kurt with his background, or to tell him the truth about what he did when he was away.

Kurt curled up in his bedroll, watching the embers in the fire. He didn't know how long he stayed awake for, but he knew it was a long time. He certainly didn't get to sleep easily, especially as he picked up on the muffled crying from behind him in the tipi. It took everything within him not to crawl back in there and hold Blaine. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that Blaine needed to know what he had done wasn't alright, and couldn't be so easily forgiven. Kurt had to remind himself too that he needed to be independant, and fight for what he thought was right - in this case, how he would allow himself to be treated.

So Kurt slept off and on throughout the night, not really getting any good rest in the end. As the sun crept over the horizon, he finally accepted that he would need a lot of coffee to get him through the day and got up to pack his bedroll, heading to the corral with all his gear.

"Kikife!" Kurt called out, and his stallion came trotting over quickly. Kurt let him out of the fence and went about saddling him and tying his gear onto the beast. Ominitago had come to the fence during this and neighed noisily at Kurt, as if to demand to know why she wasn't also being let out.

"Sorry Minnie... just me and Kiki this time." Kurt murmured to her, giving her a gentle pat on the nose. She responded with a snort and shook her head away from his hand.

Kurt sighed and led Kikife through the village, stopping at Bear Mother's tipi. He was about to duck in when the canvas was thrown back and Bear Mother revealed herself, looking agitated.

"So. You're leaving."

Kurt nodded to her, stepping back to allow her to come out completely and stand in front of him. "You need to help Leaning Bear. He's the one that really needs help."

She nodded slowly, regarding Kurt like she had that first day... weeks ago now. How many he wasn't really sure because time just didn't seem to exist here as it did in a white town.

"A person can not be helped unless they know and ask for the help they need. You are already on the path to healing... he has not found that path yet."

Kurt didn't know how to respond to that, so he remained quiet until the small woman shuffled forward and gave him a hug which Kurt melted into with a small whimper. "Thank you Bear Mother..."

"I hope to see you again one day white boy." She patted his back and pulled away, watching as Kurt mounted Kikife and gave her one more nod before riding out, towards the south. He didn't look back, and he didn't stop until his horse wouldn't go forward any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

~*~*~*~*~*~ 2 months later ~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hummel! I need that trouser order! Now! Not later!" Isabelle barked from the front of the store. Kurt hurriedly gathered the trousers he had just finished up on this morning, folded them in rapid succession, gathered them together with twine, and speed walked them to the front of the storefront where he set them on the counter by his boss.

"Sorry. Wanted to make sure they were perfect!" Kurt announced as he exhaled, and looked over the trouser pile at the customer in front of them. He had to catch his breath. The man was taller than him, with blond wavy hair that hung around his face. He was absolutely gorgeous and dressed in the finest suit Kurt had ever seen.

"There you are Mr. Crawford. Kurt is the best so you should be pleased with his work!" Isabelle smiled and went to the back room, leaving Kurt alone with the blue eyed beauty before him.

"Adam." the man introduced himself, holding a hand out over the counter which Kurt quickly took and shook gently, smiling perhaps a little too eagerly at him.

"Kurt."

"Yes, I gathered that from what the missus said." Adam said, a British accent complimenting his words. He winked at Kurt who swallowed sheepishly, looking around to make sure they were alone and no one saw the interaction.

"I haven't seen you here before." Kurt noted, trying to think of anything to keep up the conversation.

Adam nodded, "I was away in England for a bit, but I always come here to have Isabelle take care of my tailoring for my crew. You're new too. I wouldn't forget a face like yours."

Kurt nodded as a blush spread across his cheeks, "Yes. Just moved to New York a few weeks ago. I'm lucky Isabelle was hiring."

Adam nodded again in agreement. "She's the best, and if she says you're the best - then you must be amazing." Again he winked and Kurt had to nip his lower lip to stop the blush he knew was spreading over his face and giving away just how bashful this was making him.

"Have you seen any of the shows yet?" Adam asked, brows lifting as he looked at Kurt.

Kurt shook his head. He wished he had, but work had kept him busy since he moved here. He was living in a boarding house not far away, but wondered why he even did that since most nights he fell asleep sewing in the back room here anyhow. Even if he was able, the tickets cost more than he felt comfortable paying for, and the last thing he wanted was to experience being in debt again.

"Well that's a shame." Adam tsked, "Have to remedy that. Tell your boss you're taking Friday night off and I'll be here at seven to take you to the latest."

Adam grabbed the trousers, winked once more at Kurt, and then swiftly turned and exited the store, leaving Kurt slack jawed and wide eyed. Had that actually happened? Had he been asked out so publicly? No. It had to have been a mistake.

"Oh that did actually happen." Isabelle spoke up from behind him and Kurt turned and looked to her, still not recovered from the shock. She leaned against the door frame, smirking knowingly. Kurt had known her for such a short time but she seemed to have him completely figured out already.

"How... what..." Kurt stammered.

"Oh sweetpea. He saw you when he dropped those off for mending, even though you were too self absorbed in your work to see him. I know he is... and I know you are... so I dropped the information to him and he immediately perked up." She winked at him, not unlike how Adam just had, and laughed her way back into the tailoring room.

Kurt groaned and shook his head. His boss was nothing if not meddlesome, but at least she meant well, and in this particular case, it was welcome.

He had been trying to get Blaine out of his head for the past two months, with no success. His stomach still ached whenever he thought about him, and it took every ounce of willpower Kurt had not to ride back out to see how he was. It was the major reason why he worked so hard, despite Isabelle telling him to take time off. If he was working, he was distracted. If he was distracted, he could keep himself away from the train.

Maybe, just maybe, he could see Adam and find what he had lost in Blaine. At the very least, it was nice to have someone else who might be interested in him. Someone who hadn't saved him, someone Kurt could see as an equal, and someone he could start fresh with.

Kurt went back to his place in the back and began working on another order, this one for dresses. Other tailors worked around him, though most did not speak English, at least not passably, but everyone was kind enough to each other and everyone worked hard for their pay.

Technically, Kurt had been hired as a junior designer, and Isabelle frequently told him she'd be happy if he just designed, but to keep himself occupied and feeling useful, he helped with all the tailoring and stitching.

"So what are you going to wear?" Isabelle had once again creeped up on him and positioned herself in a crouch in front of him, grinning broadly.

"Ah... hadn't really thought about it..." Kurt admitted, looking down at his plain clothing. He had been so busy making clothing for orders that he hadn't made himself any new clothes in awhile, and New York was well ahead in the style department. What had been trendy and unique in Lima was pitifully plain in New York.

"Well perhaps you'll let everyone else finish this order and you'll make something new for yourself." Isabelle spoke, more of a directive than a suggestion as she pulled the fabric away from Kurt who made a small yelp of protest.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes.

"Just remember to tell everyone who asks that it was designed at Isabelle's House of Fashion!" She winked and walked back off, leaving Kurt alone. He sighed and turned toward the sketchbook he kept at his table, flipping through the designs he'd drawn since he came to New York. None of them looked right, so he went to a blank page and took his charcoal stick to begin sketching. He let his hand lead the design, his mind wandering as he drew, until he looked down and made a small whimper. In his absent mindedness, he had drawn nothing new. Instead, he had drawn the familiar black duster and black hat that Blaine always wore.

Kurt slid his sketchbook off to the side, propping his arms up on the table and setting his face into his hands. He had been working so hard to accept his memories and his nightmares had become less and less as he realized he could control some of what was going on in his dreams and fight back. Kurt recognized he was a lucid dreamer and had turned it to his advantage in overcoming his trauma. He still had a ways to go on getting better, but crowds no longer upset him and every time he felt like he was in danger, he learned to control his breathing and talk himself down to calm again.

But his subconscious still worked against him it seemed. Every time he let his mind wander, it found its way to the open plains with the sky as a ceiling and a warm, over snugly, curly haired half-blood boy beside him. It made his heart ache terribly.

When he had left the village, he traveled back to his father's ranch where he left Kikife and took the train from Lima to New York. He was honestly quite surprised, and pleased with himself, for finding his way back without Blaine leading the way. His father hadn't asked any questions, but told Kurt that he wished the best for him and hoped he found what he was looking for in New York.

Kurt hadn't... at least not yet. Sure he had found employment with a great designer and was well on his way to producing his own line of clothing with her support, but the dreams he once had for himself didn't seem to satisfy him anymore, and he didn't know what would.

So Kurt grabbed his sketchbook back and turned to one of his newer designs, and while it wasn't something he felt terribly passionate about, he got the fabric he needed and spent that night sewing himself a new suit.

* * *

Kurt was gushing.

"Oh my goodness Adam! That was the single most amazing thing I have ever seen! The dancing and singing and... oh my goodness! It was so wonderful!"

Adam laughed and walked alongside Kurt, who was more accurately bouncing along the street towards the restaurant Adam was taking him to. The play had been amazing, the actors were phenomenal, and the singing - just breathtaking. He had his eyes glued forward the entire time, afraid to even blink for fear of missing something. At some point during the performance, he had leaned forward so much that Adam had to gently nudge him back, whispering that Kurt was at risk of falling out of his seat. The touch had caused a surge in Kurt's heart rate, but he was so entranced by the play, that he was quickly distracted away from the trauma.

"How have I not gone before tonight? What on earth was I waiting for? Oh! And did you see how they all danced in unison with the girls dresses floating after them as they were held up by the men? And how..." Kurt continued on like this the entire way to the restaurant, and Adam, just smiled and indulged his rambling by remaining quiet and letting Kurt go on and on.

When they got to the restaurant, Kurt balked at the prices on the menu, but Adam smiled and reminded him that he was the one who had asked him out, so he was the one paying. It made Kurt uncomfortable, mostly because it reminded him of how Blaine had been the one to pay and take care of everything when they had been together, but Kurt shoved the discomfort deep down into his stomach and covered it with the most delicious pasta he had ever eaten.

The conversation flowed easily, and Kurt delighted in having someone to have a real dialogue with. They talked at length about their homes, their jobs, and, of course, the theatre. There were no awkward pauses, nor was there any lulls, and before they knew it, they were being shooed out the door by the proprietor of the restaurant who wanted to go home for the night.

"Thank you Adam... I really needed this. This whole night has been wonderful." Kurt said softly and abruptly, interrupting the conversation they had been having about New York fashion as Adam hailed a carriage.

Adam smiled sweetly to Kurt, "Really... the pleasure has been all mine, and I hope you'll let me take you out again."

Kurt nodded. Of course he would. He was in New York, living what was supposed to be his dream, and while it still had to be kept quiet and away from public eyes, he was more free to date another man here than he was most anywhere else, and Adam was the perfect gentleman. In fact, Adam was the embodiment of everything Kurt had longed for back in Lima - gorgeous, gentlemanly, sharing the same interests, and even had the added bonus of an exotic accent. He was the perfect package.

Adam let Kurt board the carriage and then passed the driver a few coins, informing him of the location of Kurt's boarding house. As the carriage lurched forward, Adam tipped his hat to Kurt, giving him another wink, and this time, Kurt winked back.

When he got to the boarding house, he hummed as he danced up the stairs, recounting the play once again in his mind. The daydream was rudely interrupted though by a deep, guttural voice he recognized as the landlady.

"Package came for yeh!" She spat as she shuffled in front of him from her own room at the beginning of the hall, shoving a brown wrapped parcel into his arms before he had even looked towards her. He thanked her hurriedly and went to his room, shutting the door behind him and looking curiously at the package. Sitting on the bed, he read over the addressing.

The return said it had come from Lima. He pulled off the outer layer of packaging and a note fell out which he grabbed and read.

_**Dear Son,** _

_**This package came by courier. I'm forwarding it onto you. I hope all is well. Write to us soon and let us know how you are!** _

_**With Love,** _

_**Burt Hummel** _

Kurt smiled warmly. He could hear his dad's voice in the written words and his heart ached to see his father again. He looked then at the parcel that had been within the parcel. No return to say where it had come from, but it was clearly addressed to him, so he unwrapped it, a box being the treasure within. Inside the box was another letter and something wrapped in loose fabric. He took the letter first and read it.

_**Kurt,** _

_**I hope this reaches you. I hope you're alright. I hope your dreams are better and that you've found the dream you wanted, wherever you are.** _

_**I know I hurt you, and I wish I could go back and change things. I wish I could figure out what to write to express what I'm feeling properly in a damn letter, but I can no better write my feelings out than say them aloud.** _

_**I've been working on staying sober. It's hard, but I am trying. I know that probably doesn't mean anything since I've lost your trust, so I've enclosed something to show you that I'm done with it.** _

_**I miss you.** _

_**-Blaine** _

Kurt bit his lower lip gently, hands trembling as he held the letter out before him. He had immediately gone from happy and blissful to a blend of anger and sadness. How dare Blaine send him a letter when he was just getting past him. And how hard could it be to write down how you feel? Was this Blaine's way of trying to get Kurt back? If so, it was hardly a good enough effort.

Kurt set the letter the side and unwrapped the package then, revealing Blaine's old flask. He turned it in his hands, remembering how often he had seen Blaine drink from it, remembering how he had emptied it in front of Blaine and then tossed it to the ground. This was to show Kurt that Blaine was done with drinking? He could have still as easily drank from bottles or gotten another flask. Kurt sighed and set down the flask on the bed then, looking at it warily. It was then that he noticed an engraving on the bottle of the flask. He grabbed it back and squinted, reading the text.

**Cooper Anderson the III**

**For my father on his 35th birthday.**

**Your son, Blaine**

Kurt furrowed up his brow. How had he not seen it before? Granted, the text was tiny and everytime Kurt had seen Blaine with the flask it was pointed up, with the bottom away from Kurt's sights as Blaine took a swig from it. Cooper must have been his dad, but then why did Blaine have the flask? Kurt was about to set the thing down again, out of exasperation, when he heard a little tinkling sound from within the flask.

He unscrewed the top and tipped it over, letting whatever it was fall out.

A ring fell onto his blanket. A simple gold band. Kurt picked it up hesitantly, handling it as if it might burst into flame at any moment. Why would Blaine have sent him a ring? On the inside of the band he noticed an inscription, and again had to squint to read. What he read caused him to choke on his own breath, and then clutch the ring tightly in his hand and to his chest.

 _Damn it Blaine_ , Kurt thought, _All you had to tell me was that._

_**Naehame - My Husband** _


	7. Chapter 7

On their second date, Kurt as more reserved and distant. The performance he and Adam went to was just as riveting, if not more so, than the last one, but he kept finding himself daydreaming about looking to his side and seeing Blaine with him instead of Adam. Each time he did that, he involuntarily shuddered, trying to bring himself back into reality and enjoy what was going on in front of him.

It didn't help that Adam had been not-so-subtlety pressing his leg against Kurt's, or that Adam's hand had brushed against his on more than one occasion. Instead of feeling bashful with the contact, like he might have last week on their first date, he instead felt sick with guilt, like he was cheating.

"Well, did that one not meet your fancy as much as the last one?" Adam queried as they walked out of the hall, having clearly picked up on Kurt's mood, not that it was hard to miss.

Kurt had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, one of which was fingering the ring which he carried with him everywhere now, unsure of what to do with it. He offered Adam a forced smile, "Oh... It was great. I just had a lot of my mind recently and was distracted."

Adam smiled to Kurt, the same soft, sweet smile he always gave him. A hand found its way to the small of Kurt's back, and despite being placed there by Adam in support and affection, Kurt only felt sickened by the touch.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

Kurt shook his head, pulling away from the hand and not missing the look of hurt that flashed through Adam's eyes as he did.

"Sorry Adam... I'm just... " he sighed. What was he exactly? How could he possibly explain this to the man beside him who had been nothing but perfect to Kurt?

"There's someone else isn't there?" Adam spoke calmly, looking at Kurt intently as he did. Kurt's head snapped towards Adam, wondering how easy he must be to read if he had figured that out.

Kurt nodded and then stumbled on his words as he tried to explain. "It's over... But..."

"You still love him, don't you?"

Kurt paled a little, and then nodded again. "I wish I didn't... I've been trying not to..." He rolled the ring over with his fingers, warming the parts that were cool little by little.

Adam nodded solemnly, continuing to walk in relative silence with Kurt until, after a couple blocks, he opted for a change in subject.

"I'm leaving in a week. I'll be back in another couple months if all goes well, but... with having my own ship and the amount of trade going on right now..."

Kurt let out a soft sigh and nodded, looking towards Adam, "So..."

"So I think you need to figure out what... and who you want before I get back. I like you Kurt. I really do, but if we do this... thing." He gestured between them both. "Then I shouldn't have to worry if your thoughts are on someone else."

"I understand that. I'm sorry." Kurt replied, his shoulders sagging. This shouldn't be happening. He had found a perfect partner which he had right here, right now, and Blaine was hanging over him with all his damned imperfections. He tried to think of all the reasons that he shouldn't be with Blaine.

_He snores too much._  
He drinks too much.  
He doesn't talk about himself.  
He never talks about his feelings.  
He makes that squinched up face when he doesn't like something.  
He eats too many beans and I have to suffer the consequences.  
He leaves piles of clothing around to get wrinkled.  
He refuses to let me tailor his briefs when they start getting holes in them.  
He's always poking his tongue into the space where he lost teeth.

If that was all that went through Kurt's head, he would have been alright and could have told Adam then and there that he was through with Blaine. That Blaine didn't matter and he could put his whole heart into this new relationship, but Kurt's brain and his heart wasn't working together on this matter because every time Kurt's brain thought of one of things that annoyed him about Blaine, his heart supplied him with a reason he loved Blaine.

_He snores too much. -_ _**But he has such a sweet whimper when he sleeps too.** _ _  
He drinks too much. -_ _**But he said he's stopped.** _ _  
He doesn't talk about himself. -_ _**But he always asks how I am.** _ _  
He never talks about his feelings. -_ _**But I always feel loved with him.** _ _  
He makes that squinched up face when he doesn't like something. -_ _**Which is also damned cute.** _ _  
He eats too many beans and I have to suffer the consequences. -_ _**But I probably shouldn't giggle like a little boy when he does it.** _ _  
He leaves piles of clothing around to get wrinkled. -_ _**But only because he's too eager to get naked with me.** _ _  
He refuses to let me tailor his briefs when they start getting holes in them. -_ _**He doesn't want me to have to worry about him.** _ _  
He's always poking his tongue into the space where he lost teeth. -_ __**But he lost those teeth fighting to save me.**

And then, his heart kept supplying reasons even though his brain had seemingly given up.

_**He holds me close at night.  
He's adorable with children.  
He rubs my shoulders when I'm stressed.  
He smells like coffee and herbs.  
He's good with animals.  
He's patient with me.  
He cuts all the fat away from my meat.  
He makes sure I'm covered up at night.  
He knows everything about me and loves me anyway.  
He'll listen to me go on forever about nothing.  
He does everything he can to make me happy.  
He thinks of me as his husband...** _   
__**I love him.**

"I'm sorry Adam... I can't be the person you want. I would love to keep being your friend, but I can't be anything more than that." Kurt finally acknowledged, looking up at Adam while the hand in his pocket worked to slide the ring onto his finger stealthily.

Adam looked down, and then nodded, "Thank you. For being honest with me."

"I really do like you Adam... honestly. You're the man I've been dreaming about since I knew what I wanted..."

Adam cut in, "But it's what you didn't realize you wanted that has your heart."

Kurt was stilled to silence by that. Yes. That was exactly it.

"It's fine Kurt. I'm a big boy." Adam gave him a weak smile and hailed for a carriage as one could be seen coming down the street, pulling in beside the pair.

"I hope to see you again Kurt... as friends." Adam said, sweeping a hand to the inside of the carriage for Kurt to climb aboard, which he did, giving Adam a thankful small smile.

As Kurt leaned back in the carriage, looking up to the night sky, empty of stars with all the lights from New York hiding them, he wondered what Blaine was looking at right now.

* * *

As it turned out, Isabelle was a goddess.

Alright, maybe nothing so dramatic, but she was pretty amazing. Without giving her a lot of details, she agreed to rehire Kurt if he ever returned, and in the meantime, she accepted his resignation with a hug and told him to take care of himself.

Now he was back in Lima, having just gotten off the train and waiting for his dad to pick him up. Only a few others had gotten off at this stop and they had already left on their own or by pick-up. He was the only one left at the station. The train had gotten there early, leaving him sitting on a bench at the station and surveying the town where he had spent so much time and which had been the source of so much stress.

Yet, despite the trauma he had experience in Lima, he didn't feel afraid here, at least not anymore. He didn't feel like he was walking on eggshells when he was here anymore, and wasn't worried about who might jump out from around a corner.

Until of course, someone did.

"Ladyface!" Santana yelled, jumping around the corner of the station and causing Kurt's heart rate to go up momentarily as he jumped in his seat. "I thought that was you I saw!" She exclaimed, rushing over to him.

Kurt laughed and stood up, embracing the sassy latina. "Santana. I've missed you. How are you?"

Santana hugged him back and then pulled away, "I am just fabulous. Busy, but fabulous. What about you though? You look like you need to eat more, and what on earth are you wearing? Is this what qualifies as fashion these days?"

Kurt looked down at himself in bewilderment. Really, after New York living, this was one of his tamer outfits. He decided not to engage in that particular conversation though since there was so much more he wanted to hear about.

"How is Quinn? And Brittany? And have you seen anyone else?"

"Quinn is Quinn, Brittany is gorgeous, and I see lots of people everyday, most who would never admit they've seen me." She winked, referring to being at the brothel.

Kurt rolled his eyes in return and they both laughed. Before he knew it, they were both sitting on the bench, bodies turned to one another as they talked about the past, the people they knew, and Santana caught him up on all the local gossip.

Finally, Santana asked him the question he was dreading.

"So where's your little half blood boy toy?"

Kurt winced and looked down, "I left him."

"Are you insane?!" Santana spat, poking an accusatory finger into Kurt's chest, "That boy is like you. How many guys like that are you going to find in this lifetime?"

Kurt smirked a little, looking up at Santana, "I found at least one other in New York."

Santana balked a little, "And let me guess. You left him too? You want to be alone your whole life?"

"Santana, is that why you're with Brittany? Because you think if you don't take the opportunity on the only other person like you, you'll end up alone?"

Santana flushed and turned her head away, "No..."

"No one should have to settle being with someone they don't care for just because they're afraid of being alone."

Santana looked back to him, frowning, "Brittany is loving, and beautiful, and brilliant in her own unique way, and she loves me back."

Kurt nodded, "You're with her because you love her and care for her."

Santana nodded back, "Yes... of course. And you... you didn't?"

Kurt pressed his lips together, sighing through his nose. He shook his head, "It's... complicated."

"So... you did then?" Santana's eyes narrowed as she looked at him trying to draw out a real answer.

Kurt nodded to that, "And... I still love Blaine. It just wasn't working out..."

"So you make it work out." Santana said, as if it was as simple as all that.

"He wasn't being honest with me."

"Because he was being malicious or because he wanted to spare you from worry?" Santana pressed on, cutting in before Kurt could respond, "Because you do that you know - worry too much that is."

Kurt rolled his eyes. Worrying was almost synonymous with who he was, and Santana had always given him grief over it. "He hid his drinking and his past from me."

Santana left out a huff of air, a mocking sound, "So what? Unless he was the one that sicced Karofsky on you, I can't see how bad his past could be, and he's part indian... of course he drinks."

"Well that's just damned racist Santana, especially for someone who gets confused with a native all the time." Kurt grumbled back.

Santana shrugged, "And I just tell everyone I tan well. Don't deflect."

Kurt sighed, "Anyhow... I came back... because I realised I do love him... enough to try and work things out..."

Santana nodded, "So where is he?"

"I'm hoping he's still at the Cheyenne village I left him at... west of here about a week or so away."

Santana makes a small choking sound and Kurt saw her tense, fingers clutched deep into her palms.

"What Santana?"

"Cholera... The news from the west says cholera has spread through the native populations and killed off about half of them out there..."

Kurt's breath hitched, and he paled.

"They said the Cheyenne are one of the infected groups..."

"Oh god..." Kurt stood up and looked down the road, hoping his father was in sight. He more than ever needed to move now. He needed to know. He needed to leave as soon as possible.

"Kurt... "

"I need to get back to my ranch and get my horse Santana. I need to know if he's alright."

Thankfully he saw his dad approaching in the distance, and, giving Santana a quick hug goodbye, grabbed his luggage and ran towards the wagon coming down the street.

"Dad!" He threw his bag into the wagon and jumped into the seat beside his father before the horses had even come to a stop. "Get back to the ranch! Quickly!"

Burt looked over at Kurt, but got the horses turned around and gave the command for them to run without question. Santana and Kurt waved to one another and Kurt braced himself on the seat, preparing for a rough ride.

"She must have told you hmm?" Burt asked as they passed the limits of the city.

Kurt nodded. "I need to go. I need to know..."

Burt nodded in agreement, "I have your horse all saddled up already and Carole got you food prepared... I figured that's what you'd want to do when we told you... but looks like she beat us to the punch."

"Dad... you're not even worried about me going out?" Kurt asked in surprise.

Burt laughed at that, "'course I am, but it's not like I've ever been able to stop you from doing what you damn well please. I may as well make sure you're alright for the trip."

Kurt weakly grinned and held onto the edge of the seat for dear life. Thank goodness he had refused dinner service on the train because there was no way it was going to stay down for the ride.

* * *

Riding had been as rough as Kurt had remembered, worse even since his rear had gotten used to not having to do it in New York, but he didn't let up as he rode Kikife through the expanses of wilderness, occasionally broken up by small towns and farmlands. It was Kikife who decided when they needed to stop, being too exhausted or hungry to continue, though the stallion seemed to share Kurt's desire to find Blaine... or at least reunite with Ominitago.

In every town they passed through, Kurt would listen for any news, discovering that whole villages had been obliterated by the cholera. The information had made him sick to his stomach, which thankfully meant his rations lasted him longer than intended. He didn't even bother with fires when he slept, which lasted only as long as Kikife needed rest for.

He would need to reshoe Kikife after this.

It had only been six days when he entered the familiar territory, slowing Kikife to a trot as he saw the smoke in the distance. The breath stilled in his throat and he felt the calm wash over him. From this distance, things looked alright, and if things were alright, soon he would be back with Blaine.

But as Kurt got closer to the village, he saw that tipi's were missing from the cluster. It looked a lot less populated with gaps in the group. Closer yet he heard crying, but not the cries from chants, but the wailing of children and women.

He stopped Kikife and slid off him, leading the horse into what was left of the village as panic set in his heart. The smoke he had seen in the distance... it was a funeral pyre.

Kurt stopped completely, looking at the burning bodies on the platform and feeling the bile rise in his throat.

"You have returned..."

Kurt looked to his side, seeing Pale Crow there. The man had lose weight and had scars healing on his chest. His usually proud face looked defeated and weakened.

"I had to find Leaning Bear."

Pale Crow frowned and shook his head, causing Kurt to make a yelp of pain. He fell to his knees and whimpered, feeling the pain washing over him.


	8. Chapter 8

Pale Crow looked around awkwardly, apparently unsure of quite what to do about the sobbing white man knelt beside him. Finally he crouched down by Kurt and slowly spoke.

"What's wrong?"

Kurt gasped between sobs, trying to find his voice, until he had enough air to speak.

"Blaine. Leaning Bear. Dead."

Pale Crow tipped his head back and let out a loud, deep laugh, prompting Kurt to snap at him.

"I know you didn't like him, but you don't need to be so callous!"

Pale Crow shook his head, and once his laughter had subsided, he explained himself to the red-faced, tear stained white boy.

"He's just gone. He was hired by some white men to help them find a place. You must have thought the scowl I was making was because he was dead in the flames... no. I was unhappy because he was doing so much better and he and I were actually getting along and then the men came and hired him and he left. I did not agree with him going away when he was close to being mended."

Kurt heaved in a few deep breaths and looked at Pale Crow skeptically.

"So he's alive?"

"As of four days ago he was."

Kurt made a small whine and without warning, lunged forward to hug Pale Crow, who remained crouching with wide, surprised eyes and a stiff form. Apparently being hugged by mood-swinging white men wasn't high on the list of things that happened to him regularly.

Kurt took one last deep breath to even himself out, and pulled back, smiling now at Pale Crow who looked back in bewilderment.

"Sorry. I thought he was dead... I wasn't ready for him to be dead."

"That was evident." Pale Crow noted stoically as he stood up, looking around to see who might have witnessed the scene. Thankfully for him, most people were at the funeral pyre.

Kurt stood back up, brushing the dirt off his trousers and rubbing his face to clean off the dried salt from his tears. "Is he coming back?"

Pale Crow nodded, folding his arms together across his chest. "He told me he would. Bear Mother can not tend to all the sick on her own. He is the one with the most training in the healing arts. He justified his leaving by saying he could bring back supplies to help with the ill from the town he was going to."

Kurt heaved another sigh of relief, and put a hand to his chest over his heart. Pale Crow arched a solitary eyebrow as the gesture.

"The tipi you shared with him is free for you to live in while you wait for him. I also assume that you will want to see Bear Mother."

Kurt nodded and gave Pale Crow an appreciative smile. He felt like all the air had to been taken from him and then pushed back in during the course of the last few minutes and was having a difficult time coming up with a response. Pale Crow seemed to understand this and relieved Kurt of having to speak by walking towards the pyre.

Kikife whinnied behind him and Kurt snapped back into focus, leading the stallion to the pen where he stripped him of the saddle and saddle bags before letting Kikife join the other horses. The stallion neighed and his eyes searched around the pen, looking for Ominitago, and seemingly irritated when he couldn't find her.

"She'll be back boy." Kurt said, as much for himself as for Kikife. He grabbed the bags and walked through the overly quiet village towards the tipi.

Since he had left, it had been decorated, or at least it had the beginnings of paintings over the hides. He could make out a bear leaning against a boulder. Kurt smiled to himself. If Blaine had done this, then he had been also hiding artistic skill from him.

Kurt set down the bags and traced the outlines of the images with a finger, trying to discern the meaning or story behind the pictures. The bear had to be Blaine, and the boulder was true to his name - a light brown bear leaning for support against a boulder and surrounded by forest. The next picture showed a bright light shining and the bear following it. The next was still a work in process, but the light was now around the bear, who stood upright without support. Kurt's fingers gently drew over the lines of that bear, hoping that this was a symbol of Blaine's overcoming his need for alcohol.

"You're the light you know."

Somehow, Kurt wasn't surprised that Bear Mother had snuck up on him. Part of him had expected it. He didn't reply right away, letting her crouch beside him as he looked back to the other pictures and saw how the light led the bear away from the forest and boulder.

"I don't see how."

"He wouldn't change his ways for his mother, for me, for anyone. You come along and he makes the choice to change. You are his Vohokase ... his light that leads him."

Kurt's mouth twitched at the corners into an unsure smile, and he looked to Bear Mother then, who in the past three months looked like she had aged even more, if that was possible. He thought she looked skeletal and ancient before, but now she looked like she was ready for the grave herself. It was her eyes that were different, her eyes didn't have the same twinkle to them anymore. She was worn out.

"I heard about the sickness... I'm sorry." Kurt murmured, not sure what good his apology would be.

She shook her head, "So much death... whole families gone. I have never fought a battle like it before. Leaning Bear... he was more useful than I was in helping. Showed me how others dealt with it from in the east where he had seen it before. Even so... we couldn't help everyone."

Kurt frowned and looked down to the ground. He knew the histories. When Europeans had come to North America they had brought all kinds of diseases that, while they had built up an immunity to, the natives here had never encountered, and as a result, huge numbers of natives died from disease and sickness. Cholera... he didn't really know much about it, but knew someone infected with it usually brought it to new areas.

"How did it come to this place?"

Bear Mother shook her head, "Our people started getting sick after the Sun Dance. Leaning Bear thinks another tribe brought it with them and infected our water. He says that's how we get it... Water. We need water, and now we send our warriors out to gather water from other places because we can not trust our own river. So many children... the littlest ones went first."

She broke into a sob and Kurt hurried over to wrap his arms around her as she cried. He had never known her to be sad before, let alone cry, but given the circumstances, he could understand it. To be the healer of a community for so long and be powerless to save so many had to be devastating her. No wonder the spark was gone in her eyes.

"How can I help?" Kurt uttered, holding her tightly against him. She was so tiny. Kurt had never really realized just how small she was behind her big personality, but in this moment she fit into his arms like a little girl would.

She sucked back her sobs and made a little snort to clear her nose, pulling away, "I just need, help with those who are too far gone. To give them peace and calm before they go."

Kurt nodded, his heart twisting for he knew what this entailed. He would have to help those who were bound for death.

Bear Mother pulled herself up and brushed off her skirts, leading the way back into the village with Kurt tagging behind her. Around her tipi, there was an infirmary of sorts set up, with those crippled by the illness laying in beds, tended to by family and friends. In a few cases, no one was around, or the ill held each other's hands as they lay aside one another.

"Some of them are the last of their families..." She noted sadly, going pick up a satchel by her tipi entrance and then tending towards a child nearby. Kurt stood awkwardly for a moment, before going to the closest person to him, kneeling down and squeezing their hand. The hand was limp and sweaty in his own and he cringed a little with the touch, but hid it behind a smile when the young girl it belonged to looked over at him.

"Am I dead?"

Kurt shook his head, "No little one. You're still with us."

She turned her head away, looking up into the sky, "How much longer? I want to be with my brothers?"

He winced. How could he respond to that? As much as he had been through he had never longed for death, but he had also never lost all his family. When his mother died he still always had his father, and then Carole and Finn came into his life.

"Your brothers would want you to live for them... and keep their memories."

It was a feeble attempt at consolation and trying to motivate her to fight the sickness in her, and despite her youth, she knew it.

"You wouldn't know what my brothers would have wanted."

He sighed, and looked around, wondering what to say or what he could do that would help. In the end, he decided to sing.

" _And I... tell you something... I think you'll understand..."_

The girl looks back at him in curiosity, and he continued.

" _When I... say that something... I want to hold your hand."_

A few more heads turned his way and he kept going with the song until its end. The girl gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand back weakly.

"Can you sing another song?"

Kurt smiled and nodded, glad for something he could do that came naturally. For the rest of the evening, he sang until his voice chafed and Bear Mother told him to get something to eat and go sleep for the night.

He didn't even unpack his gear when he got into the tipi, he just crawled into the furs that seemed all too familiar and smelt soothingly of Blaine and passed out, ignoring the growl in his belly.

Kurt didn't rise until he felt the heat of the day in the tipi and begrudgingly sat himself up, poking around to see what provisions Blaine might have left so he didn't have to bother with cooking to have something to eat. He was relieved to find some dry biscuits and chewed on those before going out to relieve himself and return to Bear Mother's tipi to continue to help her.

Throughout the day he sang, cooled fevers with wet rags, held hands, and spooned soup into people's mouths.

This continued for several days, and Kurt only took breaks when Bear Mother told him to. One one particular enforced break, he was looking at Blaine's tipi when he stood up and gathered some soot from the fire in a bowl, walking to the opposite opening of the tipi, the blank side, and began drawing with the soot and his fingers.

Before he knew it, Kurt had drawn out a small glint of light surrounded by dark which transformed into a brighter glow in the next picture as the head of a bear growled, indicated by waves coming from the bear's mouth.

He stood back, looking over his work, and mentally directing himself to paint and finish the illustrations during the rest of the breaks imposed on him.

"How have your dreams been?" Bear Mother asked him one day while they worked.

Kurt shook his head, "It's been awhile since I've had any troubling ones. I have been working on visiting the memories of my pain while I'm conscious, like you said, and coming to terms with it. They're not gone... but... I have better control."

"You are stronger than you know. Most allow their dreams and memories to overtake them because it's easier to let them take control then to fight them. In time, if you continue, it will just be a memory and not anything that has any hold over you."

"I hope you're right..." Kurt leaned back, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. He probably stunk, but was too cautious to take a bath in the river, knowing that it might still be contaminated.

"I like what you've done with your home."

Kurt's mouth twitched into a smile at the word home. There was a certain finiteness to having painted the tipi and making it his... their own.

"Thank you."

"You white men are just so obvious with your symbolism though. Even Leaning Bear makes it too obvious. In the future, try to make people guess a little more." She chuckled as she spoke, and it was the first time since he had returned that Kurt had heard Bear Mother tease as she used to; the first hint that things were looking up.

It was that night that Kurt was woken from his sleep by the sound of breathing close to him, and as he opened his eyes, he discovered an arm encircling his waist and the warmth of a body against his. Without having to look, he knew it was Blaine back from his travels. Blaine was the only one who smelled of musk and sweet herbs, and the only one whose fingers twitched as he dreamed. Kurt smiled to himself, wrapped his arm over Blaine's and went back to sleep.

In the morning, just before the sun had fully cast its beams over the tipi, Kurt was awoken again, this time by small kisses being pressed on his neck. He moaned softly and turned himself in place, face to face with Blaine now and more than eager to see him again.

"Sorry... Didn't really mean to wake you..." Blaine smiled blearily at him, his eyes still glazed from sleep. He had cut off his beard and shaved his stubble off. Kurt reached up to run his fingers over the clean shaven face which made Blaine look so much younger.

"Forgiven." Kurt murmured before pressing himself forward into a kiss. They both reached for one another then, wanting to hold one another and touch one another, thirsty from the drought of affection for the past three months. Their hands moved swiftly, ridding one another of the clothing they were wearing and tossing it haphazardly across the tipi until they had shed everything on them and were naked, kissing and running their hands up and down one another's bodies.

Blaine's fingers reached between Kurt's thighs and pressed gently between his cheeks at the puckered entrance, and Kurt lifted his leg up and over Blaine's hips to allow him better access and to draw him closer. Fingers rubbed the small folded flesh and Kurt whimpered needily, opening his eyes to look at Blaine pleadingly, and Blaine knew. His free hand reached back to dig into a nearby sack and procured a bottle of oil, uncorking it with one hand and letting the liquid drip over his fingers before he brought that hand down to press a finger slowly up into Kurt.

Kurt moaned. It had been too long and his body was hungry for this, needed this. He could feel the heat pulse up through his cock and down through his ass. Blaine worked his finger in and out, eyes watching Kurt's face as the white boy moaned and shuddered with the action. Another finger was added and Kurt hissed. His body hadn't been touched since the last time he was with Blaine, and even before he left it had been weeks since they had been intimate. Even on his own he hadn't touched himself, and now every bit of him was aflame with need and want. He thrust himself back on Blaine's fingers greedily, staring back at Blaine and whining lowly.

Blaine added a third finger and Kurt could already feel himself coming close to orgasm despite the sharp stretch of his hole from the addition. "Please... you..." he begged, keeping his eyes locked on Blaine who nodded and withdrew his fingers, making Kurt growl lowly. He wanted Blaine inside him, but he hated that moment of loss after prep where he felt so empty and still in so much need of stimulus.

Still on their sides, the boys lined up against one another, Blaine rubbing the head of his slicked up cock against Kurt's ready entrance. As he pressed up into Kurt, Kurt found his cries silenced by Blaine's lips on his own, catching the cries in his mouth.

It was slow at first, gentle in a way they had never really been. Their sex had always been hot and furious, usually prompted by emotion - be it anger, or sadness, or Kurt's need for control. This time Blaine thrust slowly and deliberately, his hands travelling up and down Kurt's sides, exploring the skin he already knew so well and tracing lines lovingly along that skin. Kurt's fingers buried themselves into Blaine's chest hair, twirling it around his fingers in already existent curls.

Kurt rolled himself back slowly, pulling Blaine along with him so that he was straddled over Kurt as he thrust. Kurt's legs bent back and he hooked his heels on Blaine's shoulders - even he was surprised as his own flexibility. Their tongues lashed at one another as they continued kissing, and every so often, Blaine's mouth left his to trail kisses down his neck and back up to his ear, sucking on his earlobe gently until Kurt's whimpers and cries became too loud and Blaine had to silence him with lips on lips again.

Eventually, despite his best efforts, Blaine was unable to keep Kurt quiet as his erection pressed against Kurt's prostate time after time and his sensitivity was at its limits. When he came, Kurt's back arched up as he howled, spraying the sticky white cum between their bodies. Blaine thrust a few more times, with a little more urgency, and he too came, shoved completely within Kurt and biting down on his lower lip to keep himself muffled.

Blaine collapsed beside Kurt, huffing and wiping his brow off with his hand, running the sweat back into his curls. Kurt whimpered and twitched for a few moments more until he felt Blaine wiping him off with something and then laying back down beside him, wrapping him up into his arms and pulling the blanket back up over them.

They stared at one another for a long time, goofy grins on their faces. After awhile, Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and lifted it up, exposing the ring on his finger, "Naehame..."

Kurt nodded, reaching with that hand to gently stroke Blaine's cheek, "Yes..."

"I didn't think you'd come back." Blaine acknowledged, a hint of sadness behind his joy at being proven wrong.

"I didn't plan on it originally... but the things I didn't plan somehow fit better than what I did plan."

Blaine arched a single brow, "Cryptic."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, "No. I just love you despite my best efforts not to."

Blaine pursed his lips together, eyes drifting as he thought aloud, "I don't know if I should be insulted or happy about that."

Kurt pressed his already kiss swollen lips against Blaine's and after a moment of oral exploration, pulled back away, "Happy. You should be happy."

Blaine nodded, his face full of bliss. "Yes Naehame."

That word would never get old. It was music to Kurt's ears and hearing it from Blaine's mouth just reinforced to Kurt that returning was the right thing to do. "Naehame..." he repeated, staring back into amber eyes.

Blaine beamed and Kurt chuckled again, reaching down to clutch Blaine's hand, "Now we just need to get you a ring."

Eyes rolling and a shake of the head. Blaine reached back into his nearby bag and pulled out a ring, one that matched, "Done!"

Kurt laughed and took the ring, sliding it onto Blaine's finger, "I never knew you had an eye for jewelry."

Blaine shrugged his shoulders up, "I saw them and with all the money I saved on not drinking at the bars, I had more than enough for them and to have them engraved. What else am I going to spend it on?"

"Are you really done with drinking?"

Blaine nodded, and Kurt saw the sincerity in his eyes. Another kiss and embrace, and Kurt murmured, "How about you spend that money on a permanent home for us?"

Blaine nuzzled his face into the crook of Kurt's neck, "Anything for you."

"And Blaine...?"

"Hrm?"

Kurt kissed his earlobe and then whispered into it, "Let's take the morning off and celebrate our unofficial marriage."

Blaine chuckled against the skin of Kurt's neck and within a moment, then were rolling together again atop of fur.


	9. Chapter 9

The tipis were coming down in rapid succession. Kurt was standing back by their already felled tipi watching the amazing efficiency and speed of what was left of the tribe as they packed up and prepared to move to their winter site.

The boys had stayed on with the tribe until those that were ill either passed on or got better. Unfortunately, it was more the former than the latter, but in true Cheyenne spirit, the tribe endured and continued on with its plans to relocate before the winter and leave behind this site - probably for good. There was a lot of talk about finding a different summer camp site given the bad spirits apparently cursing this one. It was all superstition in Kurt's mind, but he could appreciate not wanting to come back to a place that had seen so much death in such a short time.

Originally, they had decided to leave not long after being reunited. That idea lasted until a few days later when Bear Mother interrupted their morning love making by announcing that Ominitago was with foal.

Once Kurt and Blaine had yelled her out of their tipi, gotten dressed, and Kurt had brought the level of blush in his cheeks down to a less obnoxious hue of red, they went to check to see if what Bear Mother had announced was true. It was. Without having done any checking of her own, Bear Mother somehow knew Ominitago was pregnant, while Blaine had to feel around Ominitago to confirm it.

"Huh... well she was riding a lot slower than normal..."

Kurt had to roll his eyes at that. Mares gestated for around eleven months so it meant that, at the least, she had been pregnant since before Kurt had been gone, and Blaine had not noticed.

It took one of the Cheyenne men who specialized in horse training and breeding to confirm how long she had been pregnant for.

"You're joking right?" Blaine stammered when the man, aptly name Runs on Hooves, told them that Ominitago only had three more months left to her pregnancy.

Runs on Hooves shook his head and laughed at Blaine's response, "No. You will have a fall foal. Very lucky."

Blaine rolled his eyes at that and turned to Kurt, "Lucky... right. Your horse knocked up my horse."

Kurt lifted his hands up, palms out defensively, "Hey now! You can't blame me for what Kikife does... besides, knowing Ominitago, she wouldn't let him near her unless she was okay with it. She has a strong will."

Blaine grumbled at that while Kurt chuckled. They decided to stay on until the foal was birthed because Kurt hadn't paid attention during his time on the ranch when it came to horse breeding, and Blaine just had never had the experience. It was safer to stay with people who knew what they were doing. Blaine and Kurt both continued to help Bear Mother during this time, tending to the ill and restocking her herbs and poultices.

It had helped that, aside from Bear Mother's one intrusion, they were given privacy to conduct themselves as they wanted to in their tipi - and they conducted themselves, as they wanted to, almost daily.

On one afternoon, Kurt had been lazily tracing his finger in circles on Blaine's chest, cutting through the short but dense patch of chest hair and wondering to himself how it was that he found himself so attracted to chest hair when Blaine had posed the question.

"Why do you keep that old flask?"

Kurt stopped his finger and looked back to where Blaine was looking at the flask he had sent to Kurt when they were separated. "I thought you might want to send it to your father."

Blaine shook his head and huffed, as if the suggestion was absolutely incredulous.

"And why not?" Kurt prompted, sitting himself up and pulling the fur blanket over his naked bottom half.

Blaine reached out with both arms to pull Kurt back to him, chest to chest. "No point."

Kurt moved a hand up to Blaine's face and gently stroked his cheek, staring into those honey eyes, "You don't want to reconnect with your dad at all?"

Blaine kept his eyes locked with Kurt's, though he leaned into the touch of Kurt's fingers against his face, "No. I bought that flask for him the day I was beat up, so it was on me when I was sent away. When he cut me out... like that... I knew he didn't want me."

Kurt stilled slightly, looking into Blaine's eyes for signs of sadness, but instead only finding resignation. He couldn't imagine his father not wanting him and tossing him out like that, into the wild with no attempt to find him. "But... do you want him?"

Blaine pressed his lips together, taking a moment to form his answer before responding. "I did.. when I came here as a boy. I wanted my dad so badly. I missed him and the life I had... but my mother and Bear Mother showed me love I had never known when I lived with him. They gave me affection I never knew I needed, and instead of being critical at me all the time, like he was, they gave me kind words. It didn't take long to realize that he was a father in name only." He paused for a moment and then continued, "Kurt... I don't need him, or want him. I have all the love I need."

Kurt smiled at that, leaning down to press a kiss to Blaine's lips gently, and finding it returned hungrily as Blaine smashed his lips back, engaging Kurt in a lengthy kissing session. They buried the flask later that day, deep into the earth. Blaine mockingly called it the funeral of his drinking days, and Kurt ensured that the burial site would be hard to find by carefully replanting the growth they had dug up.

When Ominitago was ready to birth, everyone knew. She whinnied noisy and Kikife was panicked, running from one side of the pen to the other and protectively challenging any other horse who came near Ominitago. Kurt opted to stay away for the birth, recalling the mess from when the animals on his dad's ranch gave birth. Blaine however was curious and watched the whole process with awe.

The little female foal looked like an appaloosa, but with larger black spots. Kurt was called to come see the newborn a little too early, when Ominitago was eating the placenta. The sight made Kurt have to leave just as quickly as he came in order to avoid puking. He really didn't know how he had survived growing up on a ranch given that the birth of cows and horses was commonplace there.

"How are we going to travel with a foal?" Kurt asked when he had returned, offering Ominitago a carrot as the filly suckled.

Blaine shrugged up his shoulders from where he was crouched, watching the filly drink with what Kurt could only place as wonderment. "We're not exactly good at planning things... but we seem to be able to do alright for ourselves regardless."

Kurt patted Ominitago's nose when she nudged it to him appreciatively after munching the carrot. Throughout everything, Kikife had stood guard, in a very awkward but noble gesture towards Ominitago. Sometimes Kurt's stallion reminded him of his step-brother - sweet and well meaning, but somewhat oafish.

"Well we can't stay here. The tribe is going soon. We need to make some kind of plan for the winter."

So they had talked... and talked... and talked. Blaine wanted to stay with the tribe, but Kurt was ready to move on. Kurt wanted to return to the city, but Blaine didn't know what they would do with their horses there, or what he would do. Back and forth they went, and despite the disagreement on what to do, Kurt was happy they were having the dialogue that months ago wouldn't have even happened.

When Kurt woke up with a shriek one night and sat right up, Blaine was there to soothe him back down and hold him closely.

"That's the first time you've done that since you've come back..." Blaine whispered to Kurt, holding him tightly against his side.

Kurt nodded, tucking his head against that furry chest he liked so much. "I've been better... but it still happens sometimes... I can usually tell myself that my dreams are just that when I'm in them... but occasionally it's hard to remind my subconscious of that when they get too intense."

Blaine ran his hand over Kurt's hair repeatedly, stopping only to press a kiss to the top of his head before continuing to stroke his head. "I'll always be here to keep you safe."

Kurt chuckled and tipped his head up, giving Blaine a peck on the chin. "My dashing prince."

Blaine scrunched his face up in disdain over the title, causing Kurt to chuckle once again.

Ultimately they had decided to spend the winter with Kurt's family near Lima. It would be a safe place for the foal to stay until it was done nursing and Kurt and Blaine could stay in one of the cabins that the seasonal ranchhands lived in during the rustling season, which would be empty in the winter. Once winter was done though, their plans were still up in the air. Kurt was happy he would get to spend some time with his family though, and integrate Blaine into the family while doing so.

So now they were packed up, Blaine helping the tribe bring down the tipis of families that had perished from cholera which would be distributed to the survivors as their needs warranted, while Kurt cooked up a stew from the excess perishable food they couldn't pack for their trip. Despite being a random mix of vegetables and different meats, it actually smelled and tasted wonderful.

Their three horses were tied up nearby, as the pen had been taken down and the tribes horses being prepared for the trip south. Every now and then Kurt would cast a glance to where Ominitago, Kikife, and Katsee were resting. Blaine had named the filly Little Girl, Katsee, apparently drawing on a creative blank compared to when he had named Ominitago and Kikife. Kurt wondered, as he watched them, if this was as close as they would get to having a family of their own. He caught himself in this thought with a sharp inhale. He had never really thought of having kids before. Being gay, it wasn't even something he had bothered to consider before since it simply wasn't possible, much less acceptable in the world they lived in. If they were ever discovered, they risked death or, or at the least, alienation and humiliation of some kind. It certainly wasn't a life that they could bring a child into, not without having to lie continuously to the child about the nature of their relationship.

Somehow though, being with Blaine and knowing that their future would be spent together, prompted Kurt to have thoughts like that. When he had watched Blaine dance and play with some of the tribe children earlier that week, he couldn't help but pretend those children were their own and let his heart fill with warmth from the thought of it. He put the thought away though, back in the recesses of his mind, since he knew all he could hope for was being a favourite uncle to Finn and Rachel's kids. However, knowing that he was with someone who made him think things like that brought a smile to his face.

"Why are you grinning at a tree...?" Came Blaine's voice to his right side suddenly, and Kurt snapped out of his dream world and looked back to man walking towards him. Blaine's clothes were clinging to him, as he had obviously worked hard that afternoon and was now covered in his own sweat.

"I was... My mind was elsewhere." Kurt replied, thinking to himself that he would love to have a little girl with Blaine's curly hair, which currently was slicked into tight curls from the moisture running through it. Blaine's brow furrowed in question and Kurt shook his head, turning his attention back to stirring the stew, a small grin on his face.

"Well... everyone is packed up anyhow. They've started leaving too. Bear Mother wanted to say goodbye to you though before we left." Blaine noted, sitting himself down cross legged by the fire and pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side to expose his glistening, naked torso. Kurt stole a glance and hummed appreciatively, causing Blaine to grin knowingly.

"You're a tease." Kurt murmured, sipping a bit of the stew broth he had scooped from the pot.

Blaine winked back to him and reached to pour himself a mug of coffee from another pot kept by the fire.

"I'm going to miss her you know." Kurt said, putting down the ladle and licking his lips in appreciation of the flavour. "She scared me at first, but now it's like she's family I didn't know I had."

"Well that's because she is." Blaine responded, his nose wrinkling up as he looked back to Kurt. The way he said it made it seem like it was obvious. "You're my family, and she's mine too... so you're both related."

Kurt cocked a solitary eyebrow as he listened to Blaine's explanation. Sometimes his man was simple minded... so simple that he made sense. If they were a heterosexual couple, Bear Mother would be related by marriage.

Kurt moved himself to sit by Blaine while the stew finished up, catching himself before putting a hand on Blaine's hand. It was one thing to display intimacy in the tipi, it was another entirely to do it outside where they were. They had to keep up the charade of being business partners, even though Kurt suspected that at the least, Pale Crow knew the truth.

Blaine smiled warmly towards Kurt and whispered, "Naehame..."

Kurt beamed back and whispered his response. "Yes... Naehame."

* * *

Saying goodbye to Bear Mother was harder than Kurt thought it would be. The first time he left he was too full of emotions surrounding Blaine that he hadn't thought about Bear Mother. This time though, he was full of them.

She had had to push him off her where he had been hugging her, and push him into Blaine's arms, declaring that they would see each other again - if not in this life, than the next, which just made Kurt whimper and Blaine strengthen his hold on Kurt's shoulders. Bear Mother had given them a full supply of herbs, poultices, and tonics, including one that she noted would "increase virility" with a wink. Kurt groaned, knowing full well that Blaine needed no help in that department, and made a mental note to hide that particular tonic.

They had traveled slowly, since Katsee was young yet and needed to suckle regularly. Taking their time, they had made detours, enjoying the wilderness that was mostly unexplored and uninhabited as they went along. Instead of the week it took going strong, they spent a month traveling back to Lima.

When they got into the ranch house, Kurt was immediately tackled in a hug by Rachel, whose baby bump sent him into a giddy state of shock. Blaine hung back and watched with amusement as Kurt was allowed to touch the bump and ask Rachel a plethora of questions about her state and when his niece or nephew was due.

Kurt and his dad were also gleefully reunited, and Burt made an awkward, but noted attempt to hug Blaine and tell him he was welcome as part of the family at the ranch.

Blaine and Finn were ultimately the ones who ended up getting along the best. Blaine congratulated Finn for knocking up Rachel, which caused Kurt and Burt's jaws to drop, and Finn responded that the process was a pleasure - receiving a smack in the arm from Rachel in return.

Carol had warmly embraced them both and was eager to have Kurt around again to help her with her wardrobe. They spent hours during the winter going through her clothing while Kurt made alterations, and even some new dresses for her.

Blaine spent his time helping Finn and Burt on the ranch, learning some new skills and keeping himself occupied and out of the women's, and Kurt's, way when they got on about babies and clothing.

So the winter turned into spring, since Kurt insisted they stay on for the birth of the baby - a boy named Christopher - for Finn's deceased father, and spring went on until summer, since Blaine decided to he wanted to stay and help with the ranch and hone his skills, and before they knew it, they were in another autumn.

Kurt cradled little Christopher against his chest and hummed happily. The baby was already sound asleep in his arms, but putting him in his crib meant that he wouldn't be in Kurt's arms, which was inconceivable to him.

Blaine was reading through one of Kurt's old books that his father had kept after Kurt left home initially, and they were seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the main house where they had moved in back in the spring when the ranch hands had come back. Everyone else had gone to bed already since Kurt had insisted on putting little Christopher to bed that night.

"Blaine...?"

"Hrm?" Blaine looked up over the edge of the book at Kurt.

"Are we going to stay here for another winter?"

Blaine didn't respond. He set down the book on the arm of the sofa and turned towards Kurt, finally speaking, "Are you asking me if we are or are you asking for permission for us to stay?"

Kurt felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he had been caught. He wanted to stay on, with his family in this place where it was safe for them to be together, where Blaine felt useful, and Kurt had a few other people to talk to.

"Both... I guess."

Blaine smiled and scooted himself closer to Kurt, peering down at the baby with another wide grin. "Well..." He looked up at Kurt, "I'm alright with it. I've only made one plan for my life."

"Which is?" Kurt crooked an eyebrow.

"Be with you." Blaine murmured and leaned over to press a kiss to Kurt's cheek before moving back to his spot on the sofa and picking up his book.

Kurt grinned, inwardly elated at the prospect of staying in the home. Really he had come full circle - wanting to escape home for adventure and city living, and now finding himself back at home and blissfully happy there.

"Blaine?"

Blaine didn't bother peering over the book as he replied this time. "If you want sex you have to put the baby to bed."

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're lucky I'm holding him or you'd get a smack to the arm."

"That's why I said it." Blaine murmured. "What was it though?"

"Let's build our own house on the ranch land here."

"By we, you clearly mean me. Alright." Blaine again didn't stop looking from the book.

Kurt just stared at Blaine for a few minutes, absently rocking Christopher in his arms. He hardly expected that to go over well, let alone so smoothly.

Kurt didn't have to speak though, since Blaine piped up once he recognized that Kurt was at a loss for words.

"We're safe here... and we have a purpose here. It makes sense."

Kurt make a small squeak of joy and leaned himself, along with the sleeping baby, into Blaine, kissing his cheek. "Thank you!"

Blaine chuckled and snapped the book shut. "You don't have to thank me... just following along with my one plan... but if you really wanted to thank me... put that baby to bed and meet me in our room."

Kurt stood up and grinned at Blaine, "Meet you there."

* * *

**And I stop it there, because to do otherwise would just result in this fic dragging on and on in fluffy drabbles. I don't like it when other fics have endings that last for chapters, so I'm not going to do that. Besides, I like my angst, and without starting up another storyline in this verse, there isn't any angst left right now.**


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